
















































































































• o V • 

« . n_.. • 



- ^ O y 

♦* -..o’ # o o J V'..;-.o 

* 'T- v p T * <>* <JV ,<V S • • /• ' f > 

<* A > %. <3 C* • -A *A. r * T ’ 

* vV ><j vP -* '^irnifji^ 5 » a^ v ^» ;»»* tSvp 

. ,a \ 'J&f&s ^ ** «:wv ^ ^ 

* 0 V \b. *7*XT* A -o..- 




^ v »• 


> *~<Z%7IIW'' ^ '*& 

° 0 yywy* O o ■%. *; 

^ " 1 A 0 * * N 0 

- <v i • • . -r\ 

,-i? ' > . 


%<* 



S <y 



o ( -^ *- * « o v* * < 

° H ° <y ,. *•■’• f° %. *-.o 

^ ^. V >*k s!'* ^ -3,v „*V' *> * 

*£■ V’v' "*■ r 0 (\/H,° "^V* ^ .^/ 

* xSN ^ ° 



* 
v^'V 






°* 

° c* t 

* sP S « 

o *VA. 

* aT ^ oil 



^ >° *v 

°o ‘ 7 ^ .* o ' 5 *- % > w.' > 

,. >*• ’' 1 f° $>, * •»• • <y 

* * o o n v < * * * •«**-, \ v 

v^<V >V e «- J 

* <b %b » 

<*» % 
\D * 






C S vP 1 

J? ■% ', ™-_-, 

‘ A <, -... ,._ _ . 

•-^-' ^ vT ♦vW* *, c° c o 

» ^ «'»• *> dy(l/A£^7> * «■£ <; v ^N\\\n'\.« 

« o > • iff * v* cv 0 

n ^ CSSsj rr5*y . '-’ • Wn Wtt£L o 

> *° "V 

^ rv * 

0 > s .. V^ " „\v ^ ®' n A u 

£ xV ^ V . f *° ~ ^ 




0 


. v** 

V <*> * 




\ v 
* *p <t 
^ KW/u - v* 0 X 

o X°V\ 

• <i r o o* <"\ -f- ^ 

* °- *••’• ^° 



v' <> 

* 1 ' ® ^ , ^Vk 

■ ° ^ "t- 

" ,, b :£M*t^o *+ 






V 


S' 




y % - ^,; .. 

^ • • S% <\ 'o , * 

0 0 " ° -r o V& . »• ' ® ^ o " o 


: W 
: #*\ \ 
** , 0 ^ ^o ** 




'o K 






\0 •»/* * ^ O 

+ p. jSoo ^^IvVvc^ » v™ 

4 , * . 1 rv' •* ^v^Cs-- 5 • /it O *■ 

"’ 0 f° ,.., V**-’ ^ °* *•'•’•’ ^o- 

^ « v % iP y‘" 

* *$* A V ^tC^AK^A 0 A * *. 

: ° 

* sP_ •j inn® a rs, » V * 
































“Come on, girls; get set!” cried Rand.— Page 55 






THE CHIMES OF 
DASKAM HIGH 


By 

AGNES MILLER 

\\ 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

ELISABETH B. WARREN 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 










Copyright, 1925, 

By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 

All Rights Reserved 

The Chimes of Daskam High 


Printed in U. S. A. 


IRorwoofc iprese 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 
Norwood, Mass. 


s 


s 


SEP 14 1925 

©C1ASG1785 





CONTENTS 


I. Introducing Jocelyn, Daskam, 



AND Me 

• 


9 

II. 

Our Troubles 

• 


21 

III. 

“Your Birthday Fortune” 


38 

IY. 

Wilbur’s Party . 

• 


52 

Y. 

TJp in the Belfry 

• 


66 

YI. 

The Green-and- White Editorial 

85 

YII. 

Janglings 

• 


96 

VIII. 

Exploits by Abigail . 

• 


108 

IX. 

The Singing-School . 

• 


120 

X. 

“Ourselves” 

• 


140 

XI. 

The Letter from the Foundry 

155 

XII. 

A Sorry Tale 

• 


165 

XIII. 

The Bombshell Bursts 

• 


183 

XIY. 

Dragon’s Eyes 

• 


196 

XY. 

Jocelyn Comes into Her Own 


213 

XYI. 

Bed-Letter Saturday 

• 


228 

XVII. 

We Name Our Bell . 

• 


241 

XVIII. 

The Dedication . 

• 


252 

XIX. 

When “Freedom” Rang 

• 


270 

XX. 

In Hope’s Memory-Book 

• 


280 

XXI. 

Hope Shall Abide 

• 


300 


5 




ILLUSTRATIONS 


“ Come on, girls; get set! ” cried 

Rand (Page 55) . . . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

“Whatever are those men doing in the 

belfry?”.76 

“Can I do anything to help you, Doris?” 164 

“ I’ve got your book! ” she cried breath¬ 
lessly .280 


7 











THE CHIMES OF 
DASKAM HIGH 

CHAPTER I 

INTRODUCING JOCELYN, DASKAM, AND ME 

This story would never have happened, 
and all the patriotic fervor in the world 
wouldn’t have made our chimes at Daskam 
High School play the national anthem, if 
Jocelyn Gay hadn’t been such a girl for pok¬ 
ing into queer half-hidden places and find¬ 
ing the most exciting things there that no¬ 
body had ever heard of. But when we all 
told her so, that wonderful day the chimes 
finally played “ The Star-Spangled Ban¬ 
ner,” she would only say: 

“ I never could have done a thing with¬ 
out my guardian, Viola Bruce! ” 

Now of course that is all nonsense in the 

first place, and, in the second, wouldn’t I 

9 


10 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


make a marvellous guardian for Jocelyn! 
Why, she could pick me up under one arm 
and run off with me, and sometimes she 
does! She’s always ready for everything, 
and daring and surprising, and a year older 
than I am, besides, though we are in the 
same class, the second year. But somehow 
Jocelyn always seems to rely on me, and 
insists on my sharing her adventures. 

Of course you want to know what she 
looks like. I think she’s very pretty. She 
has straight brown hair, lots of it, long and 
very thick, and she wears it very simply, 
just tied back with a black bow, for Jocelyn 
never fusses much with dress, and she has 
big hazel eyes and red cheeks, and of course 
you’ve guessed that she’s tall and strong. 
At school they call us “ the second-year 
twins,” which is a joke by Rand Potter, a 
boy in our class who is always very funny. 
It would take nearly two of me to make 
one of Jocelyn, and I have gray eyes and 
bobbed curly yellow hair—she kindly calls 
it “ golden.” 


INTRODUCING JOCELYN 


11 


We both live on Poplar Avenue in Das- 
kam, a pretty street of homes which takes 
its name from the big shimmering green- 
and-silver trees planted on both sides of it, 
and our houses are only two blocks apart. 
Jocelyn lives in a big rambling brown house 
on a corner, with a tennis-court on the lawn, 
where she and her three brothers, all older 
than she is, play all day long whenever they 
get a chance; and I live in a little white 
house in the middle of the block, set back 
from the street in a bright garden, with 
hollyhocks and larkspur and marigolds lin¬ 
ing the walk. I have just one cunning little 
sister ten years old, four years younger than 
I am, and of course Jocelyn and I each have 
two parents, and they all are very nice! 

Well, when Jocelyn came bounding into 
my house early one Saturday afternoon at 
the end of last October, and said she was 
going down to Kendall Street and I was 
coming too, I didn’t mind, even though she 
dragged me away from the big tapestry 
armchair and six cookies and a thrilling new 


12 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


book about a girl who went away to board¬ 
ing-school and had the most exciting ad¬ 
ventures. She sat down in the chair and 
ate three cookies and said she would read 
the book while I got ready. But I re¬ 
linquished them all without a murmur. 
Jocelyn doesn’t need any boarding-school in 
order to have adventures. She attracts them 
herself as she goes along. 

“ Just get your hat, Viola,” she called 
after me as I left the living-room. “ You 
don’t need a coat; it’s ever so warm in the 
sun.” 

“ Oh, that’s good,” said I joyfully, with¬ 
out thinking. 

“You wouldn’t put one on even if it were 
cold, as I well know! ” she instantly replied, 
grinning provokingly. “Vain thing!” 

Then she dodged. As I say, I am small 
and so have a short reach, and I missed fire 
that time completely. So I laughed, too, and 
went off to get my hat. I had to admit 
that what she said had much truth in it. I 
had on my new fall school-frock, and I 


INTRODUCING JOCELYN 


13 


simply hated the thought of covering it up 
with a coat. It was green jersey, with a 
pleated skirt and a straight overblouse, 
which had a row of buttons down the front, 
and the neck was finished with a little white- 
satin collar embroidered in red. I had 
picked it out myself most carefully at Har¬ 
lan’s department store. My mother said it 
was practical, and Jocelyn said it was strik¬ 
ing, and Rand Potter, who loves to tease, 
informed me that green was just my color, 
so altogether I liked that dress pretty well. 
I quickly got my hat, and took the new book 
away from Jocelyn, who was by that time 
quite interested in it, and we set out for 
Kendall Street. 

We turned off Poplar Avenue into State 
Street, and went east in the direction of the 
harbor, for Kendall Street is far downtown. 
Daskam, where we both were born and have 
always lived, is quite a large, and, we think, 
quite a beautiful town, with wide streets 
running out on a long headland lying be¬ 
tween a sheltered harbor on the south and 


14 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


the open sea on the north. The harbor is 
always full of ships, many of them ocean¬ 
going, and railroads from many distant 
parts of the State converge at this port. So 
our little city is always alive with trade and 
traffic, and full of visitors passing in and 
out, which we think makes life in Daskam 
very interesting. 

Therefore, as usual, for we had often been 
over the same ground together before, Joce¬ 
lyn and I enjoyed our walk through the city 
to Kendall Street. First we passed the 
charming old-fashioned homes on State 
Street, set back among their picturesque 
bare brown trees on lawns that were still 
green in the fall sunshine. Then came a 
stretch of apartments and small homes with 
tiny yards and babies playing in them. 
Then, set off by itself in splendid grounds 
on the crest of Daskam Ridge, as the sum¬ 
mit of the headland is called, we passed the 
fine Macklyn House, our best hotel, and 
right after it came the other hotels, and then 
the shops began. 


INTKODUCING JOCELYN 


15 


We slowed down as these came in sight, 
for Jocelyn, who just loves to take photo¬ 
graphs, and has finally succeeded, after 
many struggles, in learning how to take 
rather nice ones, wanted to do some window¬ 
shopping. Her mother had told her there 
was a special display of photographic goods 
in Harlan’s window, featuring a sale to be 
held the next week, and as she wanted a new 
album for her latest masterpieces, and was 
going to get her monthly allowance on Mon¬ 
day, which would be the first of November, 
she wanted to pick out the album which this 
unusually happy combination of circum¬ 
stances would allow her to buy. So we 
lingered before Harlan’s window for several 
minutes, and it was then and there that our 
adventures began. 

I say “ ours,” because, while Jocelyn had 
had the idea of going to Kendall Street, I 
unwittingly made the next move in the series 
of things about to happen. We had both 
been looking down the window to our left, 
discussing the merits of black and brown 


16 THE CHIMES OF HASIvAM HIGH 


leather covers, when Jocelyn suddenly 
clutched my arm, only to find it in the act 
of clutching hers. Right alongside of us, 
farther down the sidewalk, looking into the 
same window quite absorbedly, was another 
girl, a perfect stranger, who had on my 
green dress! 

I was absolutely mad and horrified, and 
I will admit it honestly. Jocelyn, in the 
same circumstances, would have thought it 
the greatest joke on herself, and would prob¬ 
ably have burst out laughing, and maybe 
made the other girl laugh, too. Maybe it 
would have been a good thing if I could 
have done that, but I couldn’t, and Jocelyn 
knew it. I hardly realized what had hap¬ 
pened before she had rushed me along behind 
that other girl, who didn’t have so much as 
a chance to turn around. The very first 
minute we were out of earshot I groaned 
aloud. 

“Ugh! I’ll never enjoy wearing this 
dress again if everybody else has one like 
it!” said I, mortified to death to find that. 


INTRODUCING JOCELYN 


17 


after all my pains, somebody else had taken 
a liking to the same thing. 

“ Don’t be a goose, Vi. You seem to me 
to exaggerate,” said Jocelyn kindly. “ Any¬ 
way, it looks lots better on a little blonde 
than on that great tall black-haired girl. 
She ought to have known better than to 
get it!” 

“ I suppose they make it in all sizes,” I 
sighed, trying to use my mind to console 
myself, which is often a good way to do. 
“ Maybe that other girl would have felt the 
same shock if she had seen me, and, after all, 
it is a very artistic dress.” 

44 Yes, you both have wonderful taste!” 
grinned Jocelyn mischievously. 

So I really had to laugh, and then we both 
laughed again because I had been so silly. 
Then we both laughed some more because 
we had seen another girl in my dress. Then 
we passed the city hall and lovely Rose- 
Tree Park and the public library, and came 
to the beginning of the long stretch of office- 


18 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


buildings at the end of which lies Kendall 
Street. 

“Well, I forgot!” said I suddenly. 
“ What are we coming down here for, Joce¬ 
lyn? Anything particular? ” 

“To buy books, dear child, story-books! 
Kendall Street, as you may not know, is 
full of second-hand book-shops,” replied 
Jocelyn instructively. 

Naturally I knew that! Why, she and I 
had been there before—I was going to say 
hundreds of times. It is a narrow, curving 
old street full of old-fashioned office-build¬ 
ings, mostly occupied by wholesale mer¬ 
chants who have their warehouses along the 
docks running along the harbor which lies 
just behind. But about every third one of 
the little miscellaneous shops that line the 
street is a second-hand bookstore, with stalls 
on the sidewalk containing books that are 
five, ten, fifteen, and twenty cents apiece. 
There is one little gray shop that is our 
special favorite, because it always seems to 
have lots of girls’ books in the stalls, and we 



INTRODUCING JOCELYN 


19 


have found ever so many splendid bargains 
there. So I simply replied to Jocelyn, in a 
dignified manner, refusing to be teased: 

“ Of course I know that. I mean, is there 
some particular book you want to get? ” 
“No,” said she, “ I don’t even know 
whether I’ll buy any at all. But I love 
Kendall Street, and so do you, and of course 
it’s always fun down there, and I just felt 
we ought to have some recreation! ” 

“ Why, when we’ve been having so much 
lately? ” I queried. 

As that was meant for a joke, and Jocelyn 
understood, we both laughed once more, but 
this time very, very ruefully. And so that 
you may understand both the joke and the 
ruefulness, I ought to do a little explain¬ 
ing. We had been having, and were still 
having, the most terrible troubles at Daskam 
High School. And while perhaps in one 
way they were no worse than those which 
other girls and boys have in school,—indeed, 
I’ve always wondered if other schools hadn’t 
gone through much the same experience as 


20 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

had lately been ours,—we felt a great sense 
of responsibility about our difficulties, be¬ 
cause our school organization has a great 
deal of self-government, and our principal 
likes to have us deal with and settle our own 
problems if we can. And we want to, too. 
But this time we had pretty hard sledding! 


CHAPTER II 


OUR TROUBLES 

In the first place, the school was going 
to move into a new building just across the 
street, for the town owns two square blocks 
up on Daskam Ridge, and while this plan 
was in itself highly desirable, certain of what 
might be called the attendant circumstances 
had been rather disastrous. Our handsome 
big new colonial red-brick building, with its 
white-stone trimmings and fine modern 
equipment,—such a contrast to the shabby 
old-fashioned brownstone barracks in which 
we were at present crowded,—was to have 
been finished during the previous summer, 
and we were to have started school there in 
September. But a building strike had de¬ 
layed work on it for weeks and weeks, in 
fact, the work had but lately been resumed, 
and the contractor could not promise us the 
building before New Year’s. This difficulty 

had naturally been a great disappointment. 

21 



22 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


Nevertheless, even when the work stopped 
unexpectedly in the spring, we had gone 
right ahead with some plans we had under 
way, feeling sure that ultimately things 
would come out right. The school was very 
anxious to present a gift to the new build¬ 
ing, so, in order to raise funds we got up a 
street fair on the four streets around our old 
building, with all sorts of fancy decorated 
booths and everybody in costume, with side¬ 
shows and music and refreshments. Every¬ 
thing cost either five or ten cents, and we 
never had so much fun in our lives, besides 
making one hundred and fifty dollars! 
Then we decided that as soon as the dues 
for the four classes were paid in the fall, each 
class would add twenty-five dollars to the 
fund, making two hundred and fifty dollars 
in all, which would buy quite a worthy gift 
at the rate of just about a dollar per student. 
And then, about a month ago, just after the 
classes had paid in their allotments, and just 
as the work on the new building was getting 
under way again, came the second disaster. 


OUR TROUBLES 


23 


There was a rule that we must not go 
into the building by ourselves for fear we 
might in some way interfere with the opera¬ 
tions of the workmen, so we watched the 
progress of the work from afar from day to 
day with the most intense interest. The 
thing we liked best we couldn’t see except 
in bits from a front second-story window in 
our old school. It was a mural painting 
which was being executed above the first 
landing on the main staircase in the central 
hall of the new building. It was being 
donated by a “ boy ” who had graduated 
from Daskam thirty years before. He was 
paying a famous artist to do the work, and 
sometimes we could see this Mr. Steven 
Pollock, a pleasant-looking gray-haired 
gentleman, in the hall, painting away in his 
long buff smock. We also managed to make 
out that the picture represented boys and 
girls studying and taking part in sports just 
as we all did every day, and the farthest- 
sighted among us had descried an American 
flag on one side of the background and our 


24 THE CHIMES OP DASKAM HIGH 


green-and-white Daskam High School ban¬ 
ner on the other. Well, not two weeks after 
Mr. Pollock had started to paint that pic¬ 
ture, it was found one morning— smudged! 

I needn’t waste time telling how, for no¬ 
body had ever found out. All that could 
be discovered positively was that it was not 
smudged when Mr. Pollock and the work¬ 
men left the building at half-past four the 
previous evening, and the watchman had 
heard nothing all night. But for two ex¬ 
cellent reasons it was thought to have been 
damaged by some student. One was that 
on the floor of the hall, in front of the door, 
was found a brand-new standard blank- 
book of the kind we all use; the other, that 

there were several little telltale trails of 

% 

dried gravel along the hall, such as was 
found nowhere in the vicinity except on our 
running-track, which is used by students 
only. 

Everybody was terribly shocked by the 
discovery, and also very angry that such a 
beautiful donation should have been spoiled 



OUR TROUBLES 


25 


before it was even completed, and in such 
a sneaky way. And, naturally enough, the 
people who were the loudest in expressing 
distress and horror were those who composed 
our leading set. 

Of course, as in all schools, we have a 
leading set in the upper classes which runs 
most student affairs. Ours consists of Doris 
Hart and Archer Macklyn and their friends. 
I always thought Doris simply fascinating, 
with her big dancing dark eyes, though Joce¬ 
lyn didn’t like her so well. She was always 
very kind to me, and let me serve with her 
at the street fair, in her beautiful wisteria 

A 

booth, which took first prize in the votes for 
the most artistic stall. Still, I rather won¬ 
dered about some of those girls and boys 
she went with, though I kept my thoughts 
to myself, until I accidentally discovered 
that some of the other younger students were 
wondering, too. I think anybody might 
have been puzzled. 

Those boys and girls acted as if they 
owned the whole world. That set first got 


26 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIOH 


into swing when the street fair was started, 
and it is true that the idea of having one 
was theirs, for they always had plenty of 
brilliant ideas. But they grabbed all the 
good positions, like presiding over booths 
and acting in side-shows, and made people 
not in their crowd do all the hard work, 
like the decorating and selling programs, 
until our principal, Mr. Lane, had to make 
Doris, who was chairman of the whole fair, 
reassign about half the parts. After this 
was done, a little grumbling that had started 
among some of the students stopped. Our 
leading set was really very much admired. 

But when we came back to school in the 
fall, there was trouble again. The constitu¬ 
tion of our student organization says we must 
hold a meeting in September, and Archer 
Macklyn, who, like Doris, is a senior, and is 
the president of the student body, never 
called one until the seventh of October! 
There was some comment. I remember 
talking to Doris about it. Jocelyn was 
there, too. 


OUR TROUBLES 


27 


“ I think this is a queer way for Archer to 
start in holding office, don’t you, Doris? ” I 
said, rather perplexed. 

“ Oh, that’s only a by-law about holding 
the meeting in September,” said Doris care¬ 
lessly, twirling a card that she had in her 
hand. She had been telling us about it. It 
was a warning-card in her advanced chem¬ 
istry course, and she had got it, though we 
had been back at school only a month. She 
is really very bright, but she hadn’t had a 
chance to study much lately. She said her 
crowd had been going just everywhere. 

“ Well, I don’t know what a by-law is 
exactly,” said Jocelyn, who is extremely 
honest and rather headlong, “ but I guess 
it’s part of the constitution, isn’t it? What 
right has Archer to disregard it? ” 

Doris looked cross. She didn’t like Joce- 
lyn much then. 

“ The constitution isn’t very practical,” 
she said loftily. 

“ Why don’t we have a meeting and 
change it, then?” said I; and I really did 


28 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

not mean to be rude, for I didn’t see what 
she meant, and she hurt my feelings by look¬ 
ing at me coldly. Jocelyn, however, did see, 
and Doris’s look at me made her mad. 

“ You mean Archer Macklyn doesn’t 
think it’s practical to go to all the work the 
meeting would mean while the weather is so 
fine he can drive your crowd everywhere in 
his father’s car! ” she snapped. 

Doris glared, and tossed her head, and 
walked off without speaking. 

“Oh, Jocelyn!” I protested. “She’ll 
think you’re terribly unsympathetic when 
she just got that warning-card.” 

“ Well, I am,” said Jocelyn flatly, though 
really she isn’t in the least. Maybe she real¬ 
ized she had been very abrupt. “ She’s not 
the only one of that set that’s due for a 
warning-card, for all their brilliant ideas. 
Do you know John Parker’s off the hockey 
team, and Frances Walton is off the girls’ 
basket-ball team, and Larry Hill is off the 
track team? All debarred for deficiency in 
study.” 


OUR TROUBLES 


29 


“O horrors!” said I, for this was bad 
news of our best athletes. “ I hadn’t heard. 
How do you know? ” 

“ I know because I read bulletin-boards 
and talk to other people. I don’t just sit 
around thinking about my marks and my 
manners and my music! ” 

But she gave me a hug as she said it, and 
I laughed, too, because we are such good 
friends we are free to tell each other what 
we really think about each other in a good- 
humored way, and I realized that I was not 
naturally very much interested in school 
matters of a public character, though they 
were Jocelyn’s meat and drink, as the say¬ 
ing goes. So I made up my mind to try 
to be more public-spirited thereafter, and 
said: 

“I’m afraid our leading set won’t be so 
popular as usual if they get themselves de¬ 
barred from the teams, and Daskam High 
loses inter-school matches on that ac¬ 
count.” 

“ It’s more likely the faculty won’t be so 


30 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 


popular for debarring such popular peo¬ 
ple! ” prophesied Jocelyn. 

But there was no immediate chance to find 
out the effect of this action, because the 
smudge on the mural painting was dis¬ 
covered, and the whole school was in a tur¬ 
moil and talked about nothing else for two 
entire days. On the third day Mr. Lane 
addressed us on the subject in assembly, as 
we had been hoping he would. 

“ Girls and boys,” he began, “ the most 
thorough investigation possible has been 
made regarding the injury to the mural 
painting in the new building, which has so 
greatly shocked all of us, and there can be 
no doubt that the damage was done by some 
one among you. You have already been in¬ 
formed by your class-teachers that any one 
responsible has the privilege of communicat¬ 
ing the fact to me privately, thereby saving 
his or her reputation and avoiding publicity 
that would do no one any good, and, fur¬ 
thermore, maintaining the honorable name 
of your school. The matter has been thor- 


OUR TROUBLES 


31 


oughly discussed by yourselves, yet no one 
has been willing to come forward and admit 
responsibility. 

“ But there is another very serious phase 
of this sad affair with which you are not 
acquainted,” he went on, and we all listened 
harder than ever in great surprise. “ Mr. 
Pollock, the distinguished artist working on 
that painting, is so exceedingly upset by the 
damage to it that it is just now a question 
as to whether he can be persuaded to go on 
with it. The damage itself can be repaired, 
and, I believe, without any great expense, 
except to reimburse the artist for his time; 
but Mr. Pollock feels that he has been 
grossly insulted, and I fear he has just legal 
grounds for withdrawing from the work on 
a charge of breach of contract. It was 
agreed, you see, that his work in the new 
building should be fully protected until it 
was completed, and instead it has been 
spoiled by ”—Mr. Lane paused impres¬ 
sively, and we all hung on his words in 
horror and shame, but also in interest, for 


32 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


he was going to say something terrible—“ by 
members of this community who can only be 
called lawbreakers. What else can you call 
those who break rules ?” 

I felt as if I had done the deed myself, 
and Jocelyn said afterwards that she felt the 
same way, and I guess everybody did. Mr. 
Lane noticed how sad and sorry we all 
were, for then he finished in just two sen¬ 
tences : 

“ Well, it is for any community to decide 
how fashionable it wants lawbreaking to be. 
As this catastrophe affects every boy and 
girl in this school, I’m going to’ let your 
organization decide what action you feel you 
could take toward some reparation.” And 
with that he motioned Archer Macklyn up 
on the platform, and walked out of as¬ 
sembly ! 

Archer is a very self-possessed boy, good- 
looking and good-natured, always ready 
with his tongue and able to shine in most 
situations, but that time he certainly was 
taken by surprise, and faced us with some- 



OUR TROUBLES 


33 


thing rather like dismay, and no wonder. It 
was pretty trying, being called on to preside 
over a most depressed meeting which hadn’t 
an idea what to do about such a mess as 
that smudged painting, especially as we one 
and all looked at Archer as if we expected 
him to lead us right out of the wilderness. 
In fact, he was so popular that I expected 
he would at once make a successful appeal 
for a confession to Mr. Lane. But he didn’t. 
He said: 

“ This is a very unfortunate situation, it 
seems to me, and I think the Daskam G. O.” 
—that’s the General Organization of our 
school—“ ought to look at it as practically 
as possible. I think it may be up to us to 
offer to repair the damage, if it was caused 
by any one in the school, for the sake of the 
school’s reputation.” 

“If it wouldn’t cost too much for us to 
pay,” amended Larry Hill, getting the floor. 
Larry, our ex-track star, was in the third 
year, and the G. O. treasurer. “ We haven’t 
endless money, you know.” 




34 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

Rand Potter bounced up, and, for once in 
his life, did not make a joke, for, with all 
his nonsense, he is perfectly straight. “ If 
our reputation’s really involved, we ought to 
pay whatever it costs,” he said quite ear¬ 
nestly. 

“ Yes, sweetheart, of course,” said Larry. 

“ Mr. President, I have the floor, have I 
not? ” demanded Rand. Archer said he had, 
and told Larry he was out of order. “ Then 
I move we appoint Wilbur Edson a com¬ 
mittee of one to go now to Mr. Lane’s of¬ 
fice and ask the probable cost of repairing 
that painting.” 

“ Second the motion!” cried Jocelyn 
promptly. 

So we sent Wilbur forthwith. He is 
Rand’s chum, and very fat and solemn and 
stately, and has very good manners, and we 
appreciated Rand’s judgment in selecting 
him as a messenger. But he came back with 
his moon-face a yard long, and gasped: 

“ It’ll cost—one—hundred—dollars! ” 

“We can’t possibly do it!” cried Doris, 




OUR TROUBLES 


35 


absolutely horrified, and she seemed to ex¬ 
press the general opinion, for everybody 
had got a new shock. 

“ We’ve got to! It’s our duty! ” snapped 
Jocelyn. 

Of course Doris had set her off, but she 
hadn’t learned then how to show her colors 
without being so downright that people took 
personal offense, and I knew she had got up 
in a great scramble that morning, in a hurry 
to get to school and hear fresh news about 
the smudge, and her hair was flying because 
her hair-ribbon had nearly fallen off, and 
she had caught her sweater on something 
and ripped it, and altogether, despite her 
great honesty and earnestness, she looked 
very happy-go-lucky and not very im¬ 
pressive. 

44 Oh, we all know you’re high-principled 
and don’t care about being—what was that 
Mr. Lane called it? Oh, yes— fashionable! ” 
whispered Doris sarcastically, and Jocelyn 
realized she couldn’t say anything, and 
looked quite rebuffed. 




36 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


I was provoked at both of them, and also 
at myself, because I just hated to get up 
and “ speak in meeting.” However, I was 
going to back Jocelyn. So when several 
other people had observed eloquently in 
various ways that we didn’t have a hundred 
dollars, and so had given me a chance to 
think a bit, I finally hauled myself out of 
my seat, for I really had an idea. 

“ No,” said I, “ but we have two hundred 
and fifty. Of course we can hardly use the 
fund raised by the street fair to pay off 
debts, but we can take the class allotments, 
which come to just a hundred dollars, and 
use them to pay for the damage done to the 
painting, and perhaps try to make them up 
some other way later on.” 

Well, I leave the ensuing uproar to your 
imagination! But anyhow, the proposal was 
finally put through, for most of the students 
felt that we certainly couldn’t buy gifts 
when a just debt wasn’t paid, and Mr. Lane 
approved our action. But the poverty into 
which this action plunged us was a third 


OUR TROUBLES 


37 


great calamity we were called on to suffer. 
And because of so many troubles the school 
had been quite depressed for ever so long, 
and had more or less lost interest in the gift. 
In fact, the gift committee, of which both 
Jocelyn and I were members, had aban¬ 
doned all its plans temporarily, and hadn’t 
met since the allotments were given up, to 
decide what to buy. We no longer thronged 
the second-story front window to look at the 
painting, we hadn’t spirits enough to get up 
our usual fall excursions and class parties, 
and it did seem as if nobody had had a good 
time for years. So now you see why Joce¬ 
lyn and I laughed ruefully when we agreed 
that we needed recreation, and gave a happy 
sigh of relief as our dear old Kendall Street 
came into view. 


CHAPTER III 


“ YOUR BIRTHDAY FORTUNE 

We went straight to our favorite little 
gray shop, and, with hardly another word, 
started to look through the stock of young 
people’s books on the two sidewalk stalls. 
A great many new books seemed to have 
come in since our last visit three or four 
weeks ago, and our attention was fully oc¬ 
cupied for quite a long time as we each en¬ 
joyed ourselves separately by reading that 
which interested us most, and yet the more 
because each knew the other was there. 
Then suddenly Jocelyn called to me from 
behind the stall where she had strolled: 

“ Come and look at this with me, Viola! ” 

She was holding up a yellow book, quite 
new-looking, all covered with a rainbow- 
colored design of horseshoes. I ran to her 
side and glanced at the title. It was cer¬ 
tainly thrilling: “ Your Birthday Fortune.” 

38 


“YOUR BIRTHDAY FORTUNE” 39 


“ What’s it about? ” I cried excitedly. 
She opened it at random, and I saw at once 
that the inside was even more interesting 
than the outside. 

Straight across each pair of opposite 
pages ran three equally distant parallel lines 
which divided each page into quarters. In 
each of the four left-hand sections was 
printing, while the right-hand page was 
blank. I started to read the left-hand page, 
and discovered that each section was headed 
with a date,—April 9, April 10, and so on,— 
and under each date was a short paragraph 
beginning, “You will be ”—or some other 
prophetic statement. 

“ Oh! ” said I; “ it’s a fortune for every¬ 
body, told according to each person’s birth¬ 
day.” 

“ You’re so bright, Viola dear! No won¬ 
der you’re head of the class,” exclaimed 
Jocelyn admiringly. “ That’s exactly what 
‘ Your Birthday Fortune ’ is.” 

“ Have you looked yours up? ” I asked, 
giggling. 


40 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


“ Well-” 

“ Of course you have! ” 

“ Of course I don’t believe it, Viola! ” 

“ Of course not! Now do let’s see what 
it is. 

So we turned the pages to “ May 8,” 
which is her birthday, and read the follow¬ 
ing paragraph: 

“You will be victorious over adverse 
circumstances if you develop poise. The 
courage and decision that lie within you 
should always support you and be your 
guide.” 

“ How nice! ” said I. 

“ Do you really think I have courage and 
decision? ” asked Jocelyn, pleased. 

“Indeed I do! The fortune is true al¬ 
ready, as far as that goes.” 

“ I wish I had poise, too,” said Jocelyn 
wistfully. “ I know I’m always in a hurry.” 

“ Maybe you could get some,” I sug¬ 
gested comfortingly. “ Now please let’s see 
my fortune.” 

This was it, under “ June 4 ”: 



“ YOUR BIRTHDAY FORTUNE ” 41 


“ With your intelligence, you should be 
very successful. Strive for initiative and 
unselfishness, and your life will be tri¬ 
umphant.” 

“ Pretty good! ” cried Jocelyn, and I was 
pleased, too. 

“Are you going to buy that book?” I 
asked her. 

“ I should say so! In itself it’s more than 
a bargain for twenty cents. Look how nice 
and clean it is, and so entertaining, too. I 
wonder how anybody could sell such a nice 
book to a second-hand man.” She was turn¬ 
ing the pages as she spoke. “ Oh, look, 
Viola; somebody else has been using it 
lately! ” 

Sure enough, in one of the right-hand 
sections there was a girl’s name written, and, 
though we didn’t know any one of that 
name, we were interested to see that the ink 
was still bright blue, showing that the name 
had been written recently. With consider¬ 
able curiosity we turned over a number of 
pages and found many other names, some of 


42 THE CHIMES OF HASELAM HIGH 


boys and some of girls, all written in a nice 
clear hand, with the square corners on the 
loops, which many girls admire. 

“ I’ll tell you what I think,” said I. “ I 
think this book used to belong to a girl who 
wrote in it all her friends’ names opposite 
their birthdays. Jocelyn, look and see if she 
didn’t write her own name in the front.” 

Jocelyn whisked open the front cover, and, 
lo and behold! there was a name, and in the 
same handwriting: “ Hope Seaborne.” 

‘‘How’s that for initiative!” I cried 
proudly. 

“ Oh, you’re a wonder! Well, if ‘ Hope ’ 
doesn’t want this nice book, I certainly do,” 
declared Jocelyn. “ I just love it. Oh, 
Viola, I’ve just thought of something this 
second! I can use it for the stunt we each 
have to do at Wilbur Edson’s birthday party 
Monday night! ” 

“ That would be just splendid! ” I agreed. 
“ Nobody will do anything like it.” 

So Jocelyn paid for the horseshoe-book, 
and I paid for a lovely blue-and-gold book 


“ YOUR BIRTHDAY FORTUNE ” 43 


of poems that cost only fifteen cents, and 
we started home, as it was then four o’clock. 

“ FXave you done your algebra for Mon¬ 
day? ” I asked after a while. 

“ No! ” answered Jocelyn with such sud¬ 
den gloom that I looked at her in amaze¬ 
ment. Algebra has no terrors for her. She 
tosses <r’s and y’s and z’s around the way a 
Japanese juggler tosses balls, and yet her 
mouth was away down at the corners. 
Knowing Jocelyn, though, I sensed directly 
what was the matter. 

“Jocelyn Gay, you haven’t made your 
costume for Monday night yet! ” 

“ I do hate to sew,” she said crossly but 
feebly. 

“ But when are you going to make it? ” 
I demanded severely. “ It’s after four 
o’clock Saturday afternoon, and you have 
your algebra to do, and you have to go to 
bed early to-night because to-morrow you’re 
going ’way out in the country to see your 
grandmother and you have to get up early. 
And Monday afternoon after school you 


44 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


have your dancing lesson, and the party’s at 
eight o’clock that night! ” 

“ Yes, Viola, that’s all true. You’re very 
accurate, always,” said Jocelyn meekly. 
“ And if you weren’t so polite you would 
have also said I need extra time to make 
it because I am fat and therefore hard to 
fit. True, true, all true! But I just can’t 
bear even to think about all that fussy 
work.” 

“ If you would develop a little poise,” I 
remarked cruelly, “ you would be victorious 
over adverse circumstances! ” 

She laughed so hard at herself, and in such 
a sporting way, that I thought I should 
never get her up over Daskam Ridge and 
back home. I really had to relent. “ I’ll 
come home with you and sew on your dress 
while you do the algebra,” I offered. 

So she invited me to supper, and the 
minute we got to the big brown house she 
started algebra and I started on her pink 
crepe-paper dress, which wasn’t even cut, 
and found my task most absorbing. 


“ YOUR BIRTHDAY FORTUNE ” 45 


You have to expect that everything con¬ 
nected with parties given by the Edson 
family will be unusual. Mrs. Edson was 
having this one for Wilbur, who was seven¬ 
teen that November second. He is very hos¬ 
pitable by nature, like his mother and his 
younger sister Helen, who is in the first year, 
and his two brothers, who graduated last 
year and are now in business, and also his 
father—indeed, that family keeps open 
house from morning till night. So when the 
invitations said: “ Paper costumes. No 
presents, but please bring a stunt! ” all those 
invited gladly exerted themselves to con¬ 
tribute to the occasion. 

As the second of November was the Mon¬ 
day before Election Day, Jocelyn and I, 
after deciding that we should like to go as 
flowers to the costume party, thought it 
would be very suitable if we could go as 
patriotic flowers. She said she would like to 
represent the Daskam rose, after which our 
beautiful Rose-Tree Park is named. The big 
rose-tree there, which has lovely bright-crim- 



46 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


son flowers every summer, is a descendant of 
a rose-slip brought over from England by 
one of the first women settlers of Daskam, 
and we have a Daskam rose on the city coat- 
of-arms. Therefore this was a most appro¬ 
priate flower to be represented by a citizen 
of our city, and I thought a rose costume 
would be lovely with Jocelyn’s long dark 
hair and rosy cheeks. She also liked my 
decision to go as the violet, which is our 
State flower, and which is also what my own 
name, Viola, means. 

The work on the costumes was rather 
fussy, as Jocelyn had indeed truly pointed 
out, but it was not hard to cut out the bright 
pink and green crepe-paper by the fancy- 
dress patterns we had bought, and half an 
hour after we had come in and Jocelyn 
came bounding upstairs into her room, where 
I was sitting on the floor cutting out great 
pink petals for her skirt, her dress was well 
under way. Of course it was made over one 
of her slips, and I had already basted the 
bodice in place. 


“ YOUR BIRTHDAY FORTUNE ” 47 

“Try it on!” I directed, waving my 
scissors commandingly, for it is not often 
that I can order Jocelyn around, and I 
rather enjoyed doing so. “ Then I’ll pin 
the petals on the skirt.” 

Jocelyn put it on and admired her appear¬ 
ance greatly. I crept up and knelt before 
her and started pinning on petals. 

“ Your costume and mine will be the best¬ 
looking ones at the party!” she said with 
conviction, twisting herself half around to 
look at her back. 

“ Not if you don’t keep still,” said I. 
“ Anyway, I shouldn’t be too sure. Think 
who’s coming! Not only our younger neigh¬ 
borhood crowd; all our leading set will be 
there—Doris and Archer and the whole lot 
of them. Wilbur knows everybody, you 
know.” 

“ I wonder why he never goes around 
much with that crowd?” queried Jocelyn 
thoughtfully, squirming in the other direc¬ 
tion to look at her sleeve. 

“ Keep still, Jocelyn! I don’t believe he 


48 THE CHIMES OF D ASK AM HIGH 

cares anything about them, though they do 
like him. Being editor-in-chief of the 
Green-and-White suits Wilbur better than 
anything else. You know he isn’t violently 
active.” 

Jocelyn laughed. “ No, he’d have to lose 
some of his hundred and sixty pounds first. 
But he’s very pleasant to them.” 

“ He’s pleasant to everybody—he’s nat¬ 
urally that way, and I know he thinks it 
is a journalist’s duty to be. He told me so 
once.” 

“ Why is it a journalist’s duty? ” She 
gave a lurch forward. 

“ Jocelyn, do keep your arms still! Why 
are you reaching for that fortune-book 
now? ” I demanded distractedly. 

“ I want to read it. I asked you why it 
is a journalist’s duty to be pleasant.” 

“ So he can represent everybody’s point of 
view and boost the power of the press, Wil¬ 
bur says,” I answered. “ He’s very much 
in earnest about the Green-and-White, you 
know.” 


“ YOUR BIRTHDAY FORTUNE ” 49 

“ He’s made a great success out of the 
September and October issues. It’s a much 
better paper than it was last year,” said 
Jocelyn, “ even if Wilbur is only a third- 
year student and they always had a senior 
for editor-in-chief before. He’s clever, and 
I don’t wonder Doris and her crowd want 
him in it, but of course they can’t bear Rand 
Potter.” 

“ And Wilbur sticks firmly to Rand on 
all occasions. Well, you know, Rand laughs 
at all that set and makes jokes about them 
the whole time.” 

“ About whom does Rand not make 
jokes? ” demanded Jocelyn most elegantly. 
“ He never makes jokes that hurt people’s 
feelings, anyhow. Ouch! Viola, that’s 
me! ” 

I removed the pin from her, and remarked 
patiently: 

“ I’m sorry, Jocelyn. But you really did 
give a jerk just then when you snapped open 
that horseshoe-cover of the book. What are 
you looking at? ” 


50 THE CHIMES OF DASEAM HIGH 

“ I just wanted to look again at this girl’s 
name on the front page and see if we could 
have missed anything there, an address, for 
instance. I think it’s amazing that any girl 
would sell this book when she’d really just 
got it, as she must have—the ink is so fresh. 
No, there’s nothing here except ‘ Hope Sea¬ 
borne.’ I never heard of any one in Daskam 
named that, did you, Vi? ” 

“ No. It’s a pretty name, isn’t it? Do 
you know, I’ve been wondering what 
‘Hope’ is like!” 

Jocelyn giggled. “ So have I! I wish 
we could meet her, don’t you? ” She flipped 
the pages over. “ Oh, Vi, let’s look up 
everybody’s birthday we know, and see if the 
fortunes fit! ” 

“ Jocelyn Gay,” said I firmly, rising with 
dignity all in one piece from the floor, “ you 
take that dress off now, and sew on every 
piece of paper exactly as it is pinned. I 
will make the wreath for your hair, and we 
will both work. I am going to get you 
equipped so you can go to that party and 


“YOUR BIRTHDAY FORTUNE” 51 


read the horseshoe-book there. That’s the 
time and the place for looking up people’s 
birthdays.” 

Jocelyn flung the book across the room 
into the middle of the bed, and almost 
crushed my ribs in a hug. “ Yes, ma’am! ” 
she cried. “ Let’s go! ” 


CHAPTER IV 

wilbur’s party 


When we got to the Edsons’ Monday 
evening we found a large and varied com¬ 
pany in great spirits, and arrayed in the 
most wonderful paper costumes. 

The timely patriotic-costume idea had oc¬ 
curred to other people besides ourselves, 
though happily there were no other roses or 
violets. Doris Hart looked charming in a 
red-white-and-blue dress with a fan-shaped 
head-dress of gold, cut in points, that showed 
at once she was the Statue of Liberty. 
Archer represented the Daskam High 
School banner. He had on a smock of 
stunning green-and-white paper lozenges 
and a green-and-white tam-o’-shanter. 
Rand was enclosed in white pasteboard and 
padlocked, and ornamented with a little 
American flag. Of course he represented a 

ballot-box, and he had invented and made 

52 


WILBUR’S PARTY 


53 


his costume all himself, though most of the 
boys had had to call in their mothers or 
sisters to help them. Wilbur was a Chinese 
mandarin, very magnificent, with a long 
black paper pigtail. We also met Spanish 
boys and Irish girls and Dutch and Russian 
ladies and gentlemen, and many Mother 
Goose characters, but we didn’t have much 
time to admire each other, for our host set 
us to playing progressive games at once. 

Everybody knows that progressive games 
make the most absorbing possible kind of 
party, and certainly those games were varied 
as well as progressive, for whether you were 
gifted at carrying peanuts on the back of 
your hand or at writing limericks, you had 
a chance to display your talents. But the 
person whose tag was punched most fre¬ 
quently for winning was a queer little girl 
I had never met at the Edsons’ before, 
though I had seen her a few times at school 
that year. She was in the first year, and 
Helen Edson seemed to be making quite a 
fuss about her. She was squarely built and 


54 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


very erect and sharp-eyed, with a pale face 
and black hair cut in a straight-around bob. 
She wasn’t a bit pretty, and she had on the 
queerest costume. It was entirely made of 
newspapers! She had a deep square cap 
that came down on her forehead and fell 
behind to her neck and stuck out in points 
on each side, very Egyptian-looking, and 
the skirt of her dress sloped out in four sharp 
points to the ground. It was all very odd, 
but it certainly suited her, both because it 
was odd and because of the black-and-white 
coloring. She wouldn’t tell us what she 
represented, but said we must guess, and I 
had finally guessed, and correctly. She was 
the Sphinx! She said of course she had to 
have a skirt, so she used a pyramid. I hadn’t 
caught her name when we were introduced, 
but certainly I noticed her. 

Well, when we had gone the rounds of all 
the tables, and the boys were resting their 
nerves after the severe strain of trying to 
thread six needles in five minutes, Wilbur 
made an announcement: 


WILBUR’S PARTY 


55 


“ Ladies and gentlemen! We shall 
shortly descend to the gymnasium to witness 
a pillow-tournament by the boys. But first 
we must select a queen to crown the cham¬ 
pion of the tournament, by means of an 
elimination egg race among the girls.” 

“ Come along, girls; get set! ” cried Rand, 
clattering in with all the Edson spoons in 
a basket, following Helen Edson, who had 
just entered the room with a soup-plate full 
of hard-boiled eggs. “ Each put a spoon in 
your mouth—the handle, the handle, not the 
bowl! Doris, the end of the handle, if you 
please—not the middle! All ready, Helen! ” 

Helen began to walk down our line. 

“ If you want to know how much an egg 
weighs,” she announced, “ now’s the time to 
find out.” 

She put an egg in each spoon, and each 
of us had to hold it steady there just by 
clutching the end of the handle between our 
teeth! It was hands off, absolutely. Then 
Wilbur announced that the one who reached 
the other end of the long drawing-room first 


56 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


—with the egg, to be sure!—would be 
winner, and he blew a whistle, and we were 
off. 

But “ elimination ” was the right name 
for that race. About half of us were elimi¬ 
nated during the first six steps. The hard 
thing to do was to keep sober, and if you 
laughed you were gone. And we all looked 
so perfectly ridiculous that very few of us 
could keep sober, especially as the boys were 
howling with mirth, and no wonder. I was 
one of the first to fall by the wayside, and I 
had to chase my egg clear under the piano. 
Jocelyn started well, but she was in too much 
of a hurry and her egg crashed down and 
skidded most picturesquely all over the 
waxed floor. Very soon it was evident that 
there could be but two possible queens, 
Doris and the little Sphinx girl, and though 
the latter never cracked a smile and strode 
forward steadily, Doris was a good deal 
taller and so outstrode her. Anyway, Doris 
was just determined to be queen. She knew 
she could do it well, of course. She set her 


WILBUR’S PARTY 


57 


teeth firmly, she walked determinedly and 
quickly, she refused to listen to jeers or 
cheers, and finally she reached the wall about 
a foot and a half ahead of the Sphinx girl. 
We all clapped enthusiastically, for certainly 
Doris was very popular. 

“ Good for you!” said the little Sphinx 
girl, turning to her. “ You did first-rate! ” 

This was a rather condescending and in¬ 
elegant remark from a new first-year student 
to a senior, but it was said with great hearti¬ 
ness by a defeated competitor. Doris 
“ didn’t hear ” it. She turned up her nose 
and turned her back on the speaker, facing 
the rest of the room with her most charm¬ 
ing smile, as Wilbur came forward and pre¬ 
sented her with her sceptre, which was the 
clothes-stick wound with rainbow-colored 
paper. Then we all hurried down to the 
44 gymnasium,” a big room in the basement 
fitted up by Wilbur’s two brothers, who, un¬ 
like himself, are fond of exercise. 

We girls sat down on one side, with our 
queen in the middle, opposite one parallel 


58 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

bar, which was surrounded by thick mat¬ 
tresses. The boys took off their paper 
smocks and coats and rolled up their sleeves 
and got very serious. They drew for op¬ 
ponents, and Wilbur produced the weapons, 
two small feather pillows in the bottom of 
large stout pillow-cases, and announced the 
rules: 

“ Sit on the bar. Hold on with legs only. 
Both hands may be used to hold the pillow¬ 
case. The object is to knock the other fel¬ 
low off with the pillow. No hitting above 
the neck. Go! ” 

If you want to see something wildly funny 
with any amount of action that doesn’t hurt 
anybody, watch a pillow-tournament. It 
takes a lot of skill to keep your seat on a 
bar while you are being pounded, and are 
pounding, with a nice soft pillow. At first 
the fighters fell thick and fast; then the sec¬ 
ond round went more slowly, and also those 
which followed, as the “ science ” of the 
“ fighters ” developed. But finally every¬ 
body had fallen except Archer, who was 


WILBUR’S PARTY 


59 


large and muscular and kept his balance 
well, and Rand, who, though slim, was very 
skillful and adroit. 

They got up on the bar with determina¬ 
tion gleaming from their eyes. Archer 
looked exceedingly earnest, Rand earnest 
and merry. Archer promptly let drive on 
Rand’s ribs with a thump that bent Rand 
almost to right angles with the bar, but he 
clenched it with his knees and pulled him¬ 
self up straight again and brought his pil¬ 
low right down on top of Archer’s arm and 
so cut off a new thump. Then they both 
hauled off and manoeuvred a second, and the 
next instant Archer unexpectedly came 
down with his pillow on top of Rand’s left 
shoulder, and Rand gracefully descended in 
sections to the floor! 

“ Hooray! ” cried Rand. “The best 
man’s won again! They always do! ” 

Doris and several of her friends began to 
clap, but some of the others interrupted: 
“Say! 4 No hitting above the neck,’ you 

know! ” 


60 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


“ .Why, he hit him on the shoulder. 
That’s below the neck, I understand,” said 
Doris loftily, and all her friends snickered. 

“ But he touched his neck! ” cried Joce¬ 
lyn, quite truthfully, but I gave her a pinch 
to hint that the boys had better settle it 
themselves. They were all standing around 
the bar now and arguing, and hadn’t heard 
her after all, but Doris had, and she glared. 

“ Hitting on the neck isn’t above the 
neck, certainly! ” she retorted, almost snap¬ 
ping Jocelyn’s head off. 

The little Sphinx girl was observing Doris 
calmly. She did not seem to me the sort that 
is easily overawed. 

“You should always offer to play over a 
disputed point,” she observed to the world 
at large, and nobody contradicted her. 

Indeed, it now seemed that it had finally 
occurred to Archer to do that very thing, 
and some of the boys wanted it done. But 
Ran cl said he was satisfied that however 
things had turned out in the excitement of 
the conflict, he was sure Archer hadn’t aimed 


WILBUR’S PARTY 


61 


at his neck, and he would be pleased to shake 
hands with the champion. So Wilbur, look¬ 
ing rather provoked in spite of his customary 
bland manner, declared Archer winner, 
much to the latter’s satisfaction, and Doris 
crowned him with a lovely wreath of carrot- 
tops, after which we all went to supper, 
which we were quite ready for. 

But no one had had time to eat more 
than three sandwiches when Wilbur an¬ 
nounced that now the stunts would begin, 
and would go on while we ate, and he called 
on me first! 

As I love to sing, I had prepared an 
original song about how we liked to cut a 
caper in our costumes made of paper on the 
birthday of our hospitable neighbor, and 
though, as you see, the rhymes were not per¬ 
fect, the performance was most kindly ap¬ 
plauded, and Rand said he couldn t have 
sung it better himself, which I fear was true, 
as he can’t even whistle a tune! Then we 
had recitations and charades and selections 
on banjos and mandolins, and, by a happy 


62 THE CHIMES OF D ASK AM HIGH 

chance, Jocelyn was then called on, last of 
all. She aroused great interest when she 
exhibited the horseshoe-book, and explained 
it. 

“ Now I’ll read everybody’s fortune, be¬ 
ginning with our host’s,” she announced. 
But just as she opened the book at “ Novem¬ 
ber 2,” amid a deep silence full of expecta¬ 
tion, we all heard, very far off in the dis¬ 
tance, eleven faint, clear chimes. 

“ The last time until we’re in the new 
school! ” murmured Wilbur. 

“ What! ” cried Doris. “ Are they going 
to take the chimes out of our old belfry so 
soon, when we don’t move until New 
Year’s? ” 

“ Yes, the machinery needs repairing,” 
said Wilbur; “and then the bells have to 
be put up in the new building. The clock¬ 
works will be allowed to run down at eleven 
to-night.” 

This was news to the rest of us, but of 
course Wilbur, being editor of the school 
paper, gets the news before most other peo- 


WILBUR’S PARTY 


63 


pie, and we were much interested to hear 
it. For just a second it made us all feel 
bad, though of course we realized that our 
lovely sixteen-bell chimes would sound 
sweeter than ever from the tall new belfry. 
But we would miss them terribly all the time 
they were silent, those chimes of Daskam 
that not only rang the hours in such silver 
notes for us every day, but sang so many 
of our favorite tunes every holiday. The 
chimes were part of our life—we couldn’t 
think what it would be like without their 
harmony. Then Jocelyn began: 

“ Here’s Wilbur’s fortune: 

“ You will have a unique position of in¬ 
fluence. Calm judgment and stanch loyalty 
will make you a person of weight in your 
community.” 

We all shouted, for Wilbur was already 
such a person of weight in more senses than 
one! Then everybody naturally was crazy 
to hear his or her own fortune, so we all 
told our birthdays, and Jocelyn found the 



64 THE CHIMES OF D ASK AM HIGH 

corresponding fortunes. Doris liked hers 
ever so much: 

“ If you properly cultivate your social 
graces, they will make life beautiful and in¬ 
spiring for yourself and all who know you! ” 

At Rand’s we had to laugh harder than 
we had at Wilbur’s: 

“ All the friendly mirth you can develop 
will serve you well, since on steep grades 
along life’s highway, as on other highways, 
the best brake is one which eases the friction 
from time to time, or ‘ chatters ’! ” 

And Archer’s sounded most impressive: 

“ Your ambition to rule is quite within the 
law. When you, too, are within the law, 
that ambition can be triumphantly fulfilled.” 

Indeed, Jocelyn’s stunt made the hit of 
the evening. She tried to explain how she 
had come across the book in the second-hand 
shop in Kendall Street, but nobody listened 
to her much. Everybody was so enchanted 
with having a fortune that seemed so special 


WILBUR’S PARTY 


65 


and personal that it would have simply been 
cruelty to children to suggest that if you 
looked at any of those fortunes very hard 
it might almost seem as if they had been 
written so that they could, if necessary, fit 
almost anybody—that is, they gave advice 
that would help anybody, at least. How¬ 
ever, if you had been mean enough to sug¬ 
gest that, nobody would have paid the 
slightest attention to you. Everybody went 
home from Wilbur’s party in the most bliss¬ 
ful state of mind, therefore, certain that the 
most wonderful good luck was awaiting him 
just round the corner! 

Well, I fear that it was not all just round 
the corner, by any means. But the curious 
thing was that, a$ things turned out, I was 
almost converted myself into believing that 
our birthday fortunes might have been 
specially written! And the first hint of such 
a thing got abroad the very next Friday 
afternoon. 


CHAPTER V 


UP IN THE BELFRY 

Friday noon Jocelyn said to me: 

“Let’s get coats and go up on the roof 
and eat our lunch there.” 

The idea suited me exactly. It was a 
beautiful mild day, and we could enjoy it 
nowhere better than on the wire-enclosed 
roof which we use for an outdoor gym¬ 
nasium in warm weather. I didn’t feel much 
like society just then, anyway, so the two 
of us went up and sat down comfortably 
with our backs against the parapet, and en¬ 
joyed our sandwiches and the view simul¬ 
taneously. 

The latter was extensive, as Daskam High 
School is situated on the very summit of 
Daskam Ridge. All around us lay pretty 
red and gray roofs. To the east we could 
just catch the glitter of sunlight on the 

waves of the harbor, and to the west was 

66 


UP IN THE BELFRY 67 

what we considered the most interesting 
view of all, not so much because it included 
the beautiful grounds of the Macklyn 
House, which is owned by Archer Mack¬ 
lyn’s father, as because directly across the 
street was our new school. It certainly did 
look splendid, with its red bricks and white 
trimmings, and the sun blazing down on the 
shining gold bell-tower! 

“ What do you think of all this talk that’s 
going around, Viola?” demanded Jocelyn 
when she had reached her cake. 

“ I haven’t heard any special talk lately, 

I answered dismally. 

“ What’s the matter with you, Vi? ” cried 
Jocelyn vigorously, looking at me hard. 
“Well, for pity’s sake! Are you still 
mourning over that B you got in history? 
Do you think I gave up playing handball 
this recess and brought you up here to talk 
some more about when the boundary-line of 

Louisiana was settled? ” 

“ It doesn’t seem likely,” I admitted; 
“ but I do think that after I had studied my 


68 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

level best, and only forgot that one hateful 
date-” 

“ Viola Bruce,” said my kind friend im¬ 
pressively, “ you smart people occasionally 
make a dumb individual like myself very 
tired.” 

“ How so, please? ” 

“ Of course it is most important to get 
as good marks as you can, but even more 
so to know how to use your brains, and that’s 
what you don’t know.” 

“ Jocelyn, I do just love to have you scold 
me,” said I, comfortably. “ Do go on.” 

“ All right,” agreed Jocelyn, undaunted. 
“ You miss the whole point of the situation, 
which is, that it is a wicked waste of time 
to lament what’s over and done with, espe¬ 
cially when you did do your level best. Just 
remember now forevermore that that date is 
1819, and forget it, and bring your excel¬ 
lent and well-trained mind to bear on a 
pressing public problem which needs brains 
to solve it! ” 

“ Hurray! ” said I. “ What a diplomat 



UP IN THE BELFRY 


69 


you are! Now I suppose this pressing pub¬ 
lic problem is the subject of all the talk 
I haven’t heard.” 

“ Good! It is. Vi, do you remember 
Monday night at Wilbur’s, when Archer 
won the pillow-tournament? ” 

“ Oh, did he win it? ” I inquired coldly. 

Jocelyn snickered, and then grew sober. 

“ Well, anyway, a lot of people have been 
talking ever since about the way he won it. 
All the boys and girls except his own crowd 
say that all the other contestants steered 
absolutely clear of even touching each other’s 
necks with the pillows. They say anybody 
with any respect for rules or sportsmanship 
wouldn’t do what was doubtful.” 

“ Do you think Archer knows what 
they’re saying? ” 

“ Oh, of course he must. But I don’t 
think he cares much about what the other 
people think as long as he can have his own 
way. I used to like him, but he makes me 
terribly tired, the way he wants to run every¬ 
thing.” 


70 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

“ I suppose he knows he’s really very 
clever,” said I. 

“Oh, he is,” agreed Jocelyn, “and no¬ 
body knows it better than I do.” She was 
in the advanced art section, and that was 
one of the places where Archer particularly 
shone. He had designed the whole color- 
scheme of the street fair, and deserved all 
the praise he got for it. “I think he would 
be all right if he didn’t go with that 
crowd,” she continued. 

“ You mean Doris? ” said I. 

“I do, very largely,” declared Jocelyn 
unabashed. “ I know you like her, Yiola, 
but I don’t think you see at all how she’s 
headed. Now, listen! I’m going to tell you 
the pressing public problem. You remem¬ 
ber that owing to the fact that we had to 
pay for the smudged painting we have only 
one hundred and fifty dollars left for our 
gift to the new building? ” 

“ Pretty stingy-looking for a school of this 
size! ” I sighed. 

“ Exactly. So our leading set is now be- 


UP IN THE BELFRY 


71 


ginning to propose that we give up having 
any gift. The problem is, shall we? ” 

“ Impossible! ” I cried, thunderstruck. 
“ Why, even if everybody else in the school 
didn’t want it, it wouldn’t be legal not to 
have it. We passed a motion last spring 
that a gift must be presented.” 

“ Archer and Doris and the rest of that 
crowd don’t care how many motions we 
passed. Don’t gape so, Viola! You see, 
Doris is deciding how she wants that money 
spent. She’s really the leader in that set— 
Archer and all the rest of them follow her. 
Yes, I know they’re all better off than she 
is, but she’s the one who has by far the most 
personal influence, she’s so bright and at¬ 
tractive, and what she says is likely to be 
done.” 

“ Well, what does she want to do with the 
money? ” 

“ She wants to give a great big fancy sort 
of house-warming with it when we move 
into the new building, instead of buying a 
present. You’ll hear all about it if you 


72 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

keep your ears open. It’s being aired al¬ 
ready to see how it will be received.” 

“ What do people think of it? ” I de¬ 
manded, wishing I didn’t have to ask so 
many questions on account of being so 
ignorant. 

“ At first everybody said it would be il¬ 
legal, but now not so many are saying it.” 

I guess my mouth fell wide open. “ Do 
you mean,” I breathed, “ that they are com¬ 
ing around to say that they’ll disregard a 
motion they passed themselves in a public 
meeting, and then take money that was 
given specially for a gift, the money they 
made with the fair, and spend it on them¬ 
selves? ” 

“ That’s what’s happening,” said Jocelyn. 

“ But, really, it ought to be stopped. I’m 
sure no one would want to do it who thought 
twice about it and saw what a wrong and 
ridiculous thing it would be to do.” 

“Viola,” said Jocelyn earnestly, “ of 
course you see right through the falseness 
of the idea, not only because you want to do 


UP IN THE BELFRY 


73 


the right thing, but because you have a good 
clear head, which many, many people who 
want to do the right thing have not, and so 
I think you ought to take more interest in 
school matters and help us out of—of—of a 
chasm which is yawning before us like the 
sword of Damocles! ” 

She was so earnest that it did not even 
occur to me to smile at her considerably 
mixed metaphor. It sobered me, and I felt 
terribly ashamed. I knew I had been selfish 
in paying no attention to school matters so 
long as I was happy myself. I gazed 
humbly at the roof, and inquired: 

“ What do you want me to do? ” 

“ You’re on the gift committee, you 

know-” 

“ So are you-” 

“ And as this matter will surely come up 
before long, why don’t you make a point of 
talking to people more than you do, and— 
what do they call it?—probing public 
opinion? ” 

“ 4 Sounding,’ ” said I. 




74 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

“ Sounding public opinion, and seeing if 
people don’t really want the gift. And try 
to think of something awfully good that 
everybody would like and unite on getting, 
something that wouldn’t be too expensive 
for our means now, and that would get 
everybody excited so they would scrap this 
house-warming scheme.” 

“ But why do you urge me to do this? ” I 
asked, puzzled. 

“ Because something must be done, or this 
school will disgrace itself,” declared Jocelyn. 

Dear me, Viola, I’m not the only person 
who thinks so! Ever so many of the girls 
and boys do, but they don’t know what to 
do about it. They would be glad to have 
somebody think of an idea that’s better than 
anything the Hart-Macklyn set can get up, 
but at present they’re the only leaders we 

have, and they can put through what they 
like.” 

“ I’m no leader, though.” 

No, you are not, but you have many 
bright and excellent ideas, and you have 


UP IN THE BELFRY 75 

them often. And they are the most im¬ 
portant things in the world, because they 
tell us what to do, don’t you see? Won’t 
you exert yourself, then, and help those of 
us who care about the school reputation to 
save it if we can? ” 

I was touched. I admired Jocelyn tre¬ 
mendously, and it occurred to me then for 
the first time that she was a girl who was 
capable of being a real leader. She under¬ 
stood other people far better than I did, she 
liked them, she liked to work with them, she 
wanted to stand for everything that was 
good, without being self-conscious about it 
at all. 

“ Jocelyn, I’ll do my best. I’ll try not 
to disappoint you. I’ll come out of my 
shell, at any rate,” I promised. 

“ Then I’ll help you by going back into 
mine and not saying straight out every 
single thing I think! ” cried Jocelyn. 

I burst out laughing. “ It’s a bargain! 
Only please don’t go too far back! I’ll 
start this minute! ” I declared, jumping up 


76 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


and peering over the parapet. “ I’ll go 
down and talk to some people. Every one 
has finished lunch now and is down in the 
playing-field. Come on, Jocelyn, the Green - 
and-Wkite’s out. There’s Rand selling 
copies.” 

But Jocelyn was peeping around some 
skylights curiously. “ Wait a second, there’s 
something interesting here,” she said. 
“ Whatever are those men doing in the 
belfry? I’m going to see.” 

True to her adventurous disposition, over 
the roof she ran, dragging me with her, un¬ 
til we came alongside the belfry, which was 
set at the rear of this old building on the 
west side, directly above the playing-field. 
In it, as we approached, we could see our 
famous peal of bells, sixteen in all, hang¬ 
ing in three long lines, arranged according 
to size. Few schools have better chimes, and 
we have had ours only a few years. They 
are the splendid war-memorial of the city of 
Daskam, and were placed on the school be¬ 
cause its position on top of Daskam Ridge 



“Whatever are those men doing in the belfry?" 

Page 76. 











UP IN THE BELFRY 


77 


allows the chimes to be heard clearly in every 
part of the town, and even, sailors tell us, 
far out at sea on days when the wind is in 
the right direction. Of course they had been 
silent now since Monday night. Two work¬ 
men in overalls had climbed the low wall 
into the belfry, and were getting tools out 
of their kits. When they heard our foot¬ 
steps coming over the roof they looked up. 

“ Well, young ladies, we’re going to take 
down your chimes,” said one, a nice-looking 
elderly man with twinkling wrinkles around 
his eyes. 

“ You’ll forget to come to school without 
them to remind you,” said the other, who 
was young, and very big and merry-look¬ 
ing. “ You won’t mind that, though, will 
you? ” 

“We’ll miss them dreadfully!” we both 
laughed, and Jocelyn asked, “ What are you 
going to do with them? ” 

4 4 The ringing-machinery is going to be 
cleaned,” answered the old man, “ and then 
they all have to be rehung in the new bell- 


78 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

tower across the street. That takes time. 
It takes a great deal of skill, too, to hang 
a bell properly. Most people think a bell’s 
just a piece of metal, but it’s really a musi¬ 
cal instrument, and must be properly placed 
to get the true tone out of it.” 

“ I never knew that,” said Jocelyn, look¬ 
ing at the bells with even greater interest. 
“ Oh, look, Viola, the biggest bell has an 
inscription. I’m going to get inside the 
tower and read it! ” 

“ Come along,” said the young workman 
good-naturedly, and he helped her and then 
me over the low wall, and we went up to 
the biggest bell in the frame and found in¬ 
scribed on it the date the chimes were pre¬ 
sented by the city “ in recognition of the 
valor and devotion of the sons and daugh¬ 
ters of Daskam and below the inscription, 
in great, beautifully engraved letters, the 
word: “ Loyalty.” 

Loyalty ’ is the name of the bell,” said 
the young workman. 

Do bells have names?” Jocelyn asked. 


UP IN THE BELFRY 


79 


“ Many do. It’s a very old custom to 
name them.” 

“ Makes ’em human, sort of—and they 
are kind of human, if you know ’em,” said 
the old workman smiling. “ Didn’t you ever 
hear of Big Ben, the bell in London, in the 
Westminster Clock Tower? ” Of course we 
both remembered we had, and what a char¬ 
acter Big Ben is in London life. “ This is 
a nice set of bells,” he went on, as if he liked 
to chat. “ They’ll sound better still in the 
new belfry yonder, because that roof is 
higher and the tower is better protected from 
the weather. This one’s really too exposed. 
When we have a big wind-storm like the one 
we had last week, there’s bound to be lots of 
dust and rubbish blown up here, and of 
course that doesn’t do the clockwork any 
good.” 

“ There’s a bit of rubbish stuck right in 
the frame,” said I, noticing something stick¬ 
ing between the top of one of the bells and 
the dusty, battered wooden frame that held 
them. I reached up and tugged at it, and 


80 THE CHIMES OF HA SE AM HIGH 

found it was a stiff pointed bit of scarlet 
cardboard. It came away suddenly, and my 
hand rebounded hard and accidentally struck 
and tilted the little bell just a trifle so that 
the clapper touched the rim. A most 
beautiful chime floated out into the sunny 
air, faint but clear. 

Oh, what a lovely note! ” cried Jocelyn. 

“Note!” said I. “Jocelyn, that’s a 
chord. Listen, you can still hear it.” 

“ The little young lady’s right,” said the 
old workman. “ When you strike any good 
bell, it gives out at least five notes. Now 
I wonder,” he said to me, “ if you’re a musi¬ 
cian? Do you know what those notes 
were? ” 

I laughed, for he talked just like one of 
the teachers. I’m enough of a musician 
to answer that,” I said, as the chord finally 
died away. “ The loudest note—the one you 
noticed principally, Jocelyn—was E flat of 
the middle octave. But I also heard the E 
flat above it and the E flat below it, and 
then, faintly, G natural and B flat above 



UP IN THE BELFRY 81 

the middle E flat. It’s a perfect musical 
chord.” 

Involuntarily I burst forth into song, and 
sang the chord, and though every one, in¬ 
cluding myself, laughed at my low note, the 
young workman exclaimed: 

“ I’ll say the young lady has a very cor¬ 
rect ear! Not many people see at once that 
the notes of a good bell have been tuned 
into harmony with each other.” 

“ Have they? ” cried Jocelyn, quite 
amazed. “ How interesting! How do they 
tune bells? ” 

“ Why, you can see for yourself that a 
bell would have to be in tune with itself 
first before it could be in tune with others,” 
answered the young workman. “ If the 
chord it struck was discordant, think what 
the result would be if one discord after an¬ 
other was struck! How do they tune bells? 
They do it at the foundry where they cast 
them. The notes of the chord, you see, are 
rung through the different parts of the bell. 
That gives the different notes, for as the bell 


82 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

narrows or broadens, different sound-zones 
are formed. The tuner gets the standard 
sounds from a series of tuning-forks, and 
the right notes are obtained from the bell 
by taking metal from the inside until the 
zones give the right notes and the chord is 
thus in true harmony. Listen! ” 

To our delight, he lightly struck each bell 
in turn with a tool he was holding, beginning 
with the biggest bell and ending with the 
smallest. The result was a beautiful sort of 
scale of chords! They were all in tune with 
themselves and with each other as well. We 
were quite fascinated until the last sound 
vanished. 

“ The smallest bell has the highest tone,” 
said I at last. 

“You are right! The larger the diameter 
of the bell, the deeper its tone,” said the old 
workman. 

“ And once a bell’s in tune,” added the 
young one, “ it stays pretty much in tune, 
unless it goes and gets cracked.” 

“ Didn’t I tell you bells were a lot like 


UP IN THE BELFRY 83 

folks? ” demanded the old one, with a 
twinkle. 

Our laughter rang out on the air, and 
Jocelyn and I peered down over the wall of 
the belfry to see if the girls and boys down 
in the playing-field below had heard us, 
and weren’t wishing they were up in the 
belfry with us. But, to our utter and nat¬ 
ural amazement, nobody appeared to have 
heard us laugh, or seen the workmen, or 
noticed the chimes! Nobody was playing 
games, or throwing balls, or running! That 
playing-field was the most solemn place I 
ever saw. 

It is true that there were knots of people 
all over it, but nobody seemed to be saying 
a word, for everybody had his or her eyes 
glued fast to an open copy of the Green- 
and-White , which comes out the first Friday 
of every month. 

Jocelyn looked at me. I looked at her. 
It was certainly time now to go down to the 
playing-field. She sprang over the belfry- 
wall and I followed her, still clutching, as 


84 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

I later discovered, though I did not realize 
it at the time, the bit of scarlet cardboard 
I had pulled from the bell-frame. We 
thanked the workmen very heartily for let¬ 
ting us see the bells and for telling us such 
interesting things about them, and hurried 
down to the field. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE GREEN-AND - WHITE EDITORIAL 

When we got there, it was still absolutely 
quiet. We saw some girls in our class down 
at the end, and dashed toward them, won¬ 
dering what in the world could have hap¬ 
pened. On the way we passed Archer 
Macklyn, the most self-possessed boy in the 
world, looking absolutely distracted. Half¬ 
way across the field Jocelyn called out: 
“What’s the matter, girls?” But every¬ 
body who said anything at all said: 
“ Sh-h-h! ” as if whatever had occurred were 
too awful to be even mentioned, while very 
few, indeed, appeared to have heard the 
question at all, so absorbed were they still 
in the school paper. So we were at a com¬ 
plete loss until we finally got up to the 
other girls and somebody thrust into our 
hands a copy of the Green-and-JVhite which 

was open at the following arresting 

85 


86 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


EDITORIAL 

As the first of a new month has passed 
with NO signs appearing of CONFESSION 
from the party or parties responsible for the 
SHOCKING and SCANDALOUS accident 
to the beautiful painting in our new building : 

And as such unwarranted reticence on the 
part of the GUILTY offends the MORAL 
SENSE of a LARGE PORTION of our 
school community: 

The Green-and-White hereby announces 
that this party or parties is or are 

KNOWN, 
as are the 
DETAILS 
of the mishap! 

We trust that any one involved in this mat¬ 
ter will now take steps promptly to recover 
their own lost reputation and the esteem of 
their fellow-men, because it is certainly 
NEVER too late to repent. And the rest of 
the school must remember that it is never 
right, either, not to forgive those who are 
sorry for their faults, even if it is a little hard 
to have to take money you had intended to 
buy a GIFT with to pay for other people’s 
misdemeanors. 



GREEN-AND-WHITE EDITORIAL 87 

Wasn’t that a stunner? 

But you can’t be shocked dumb forever, 
and by the time we had read the above amaz¬ 
ing article, there was a buzz like bees in a 
clover-field rising all over the grounds. And 
to cut a long story short, I might say that 
that buzz speedily became a roar of excite¬ 
ment. For days only two things were talked 
about at school, both relating to the Green- 
and-White editorial: the first was, who had 
written it? Of course anybody on the staff 
might have, but Wilbur Edson came right 
out and said he had, and took full respon¬ 
sibility for it. Secondly, we debated who, 
who, who was known to have smudged the 
painting? But though somebody knew, ac¬ 
cording to the editorial, this point remained 
a mystery, for nobody found out. 

However, Mr. Lane promptly sent for 
Wilbur, and they had a most interesting 
talk. Wilbur told Jocelyn and me about it 
one day when he met us out taking our daily 
walk together. We were qualifying for 
membership in the hiking club, for which you 


88 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 

have to present a record of walking ninety 
miles in thirty days, and though we had been 
stepping along pretty briskly up State 
Street, we slowed down to accommodate our¬ 
selves to Wilbur’s stately tread as far as 
his house when we saw he had something to 
communicate. 

He began by saying that he had seen Mr. 
Lane, and that he was all right. This was 
rather a relief to hear, because Mr. Lane 
is very particular, and some of us won¬ 
dered if the editorial hadn’t gone rather far 
in being so mysterious, though we hoped not, 
because we all liked both mystery and Wil¬ 
bur. 

“ I explained to him that the whole idea 
of writing the editorial was my own,” said 
Wilbur with great dignity. “ ‘ Public sen¬ 
timent, sir,’ I said, 4 is, generally speaking, 
quite up in arms regarding that smudge on 
the painting. As I have a unique position 
of influence, being editor-in-chief of the 
paper, I felt I ought to use it in expressing 
public opinion and discovering the guilty/ ” 


GREEN-AND-WHITE EDITORIAL 89 


“‘A unique position of influence!’ ” 
gasped Jocelyn. “ Wilbur, you never said 
that! Your birthday fortune! ” 

“I did, then! I had one terrible time 
getting the printer to put the editorial in, 
too. I only wrote it Tuesday, and when I 
took it to him the paper was already made 
up to come out Friday, and I had to pay 
him two dollars out of my own money to re¬ 
set the paper and put it in. I told Mr. Lane 
so.” 

“ And did you design the form—I mean 
the capitals and all that? ” I asked. 

“Yes,” said Wilbur with modest pride; 
“ that was so that everybody would be sure 
to read it.” 

“ Well, they did,” said Jocelyn. “ And 
what did Mr. Lane say? ” 

“ He said he thought I was sincere, and 
then he asked me, 4 Do you know per¬ 
sonally, at first-hand, the facts of that ac¬ 
cident to the painting? ’ And I said, ‘ No, 
sir, but I know of an entirely trustworthy 
person who does.’ ” 


SO THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

Oh!” breathed Jocelyn, as awe-struck 
as I was. ‘ But of course he didn’t ask you 
who that was? ” 

‘ No, indeed; he just said that his brother, 
who is a reporter on a newspaper, had told 
him that reliable papers never publish any 
news as facts until they can confirm it abso¬ 
lutely. So I said I had not known that, but 
I would not print what he had called a 
‘ second-hand ’ story again. And then he 
said: ‘ I believe you really are anxious to 
use the power of the press to support sound 
public opinion, and I am glad to see that. 
And if I may make a suggestion, Edson, 
next time you write an editorial you might 
look up some models of compound sentences 
to copy!’ So I said, ‘Very well, sir, I 
will;’ and that’s what I’m going to do now, 
though I didn’t see anything wrong with 
my grammar in that article.” 

Maybe there was, but I don’t think any¬ 
body had noticed it except Mr. Lane, and I 
don’t think the interest the editorial had 
aroused would have died down for ever so 


GREEN-AND-WHITE EDITORIAL 91 


long if it had not suddenly been eclipsed the 
very next day by the unexpected revival of 
the school-gift project. Doris, who was 
chairman of the gift committee, sent all the 
members notes to attend a meeting that 
recess without fail, and of course Jocelyn 
and I got ours. As we had had many talks 
about the gift project since the day we had 
been up in the belfry, and as I had actually 
thought of what I called a suggestion for 
a gift, and Jocelyn kindly called an idea, we 
were very glad there was going to be a meet¬ 
ing so we could see whether it would be 
received at all favorably. 

We were almost the first to arrive in the 
classroom where the meeting was to be held, 
and as we judged it might be long, we 
brought our French books with us for our 
next class, so we could go directly there 
without delay. 

But there was one girl ahead of us in the 
class-room, sitting at one end of the long 
table there, a little black-haired girl I knew 
by sight but didn’t immediately place. 


92 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

However, she didn’t leave us long in the 
dark as to who she was. 

“ Hello, girls! ” she said promptly. “ My 
name’s Abigail Sims, you know. I remem¬ 
ber you at the Edsons’ party. You’re Viola 
Bruce—and you’re Jocelyn Gay. Nice 
party, except for a couple of the people 
there, wasn’t it? ” 

Then I remembered her, and I saw Joce¬ 
lyn did, too. She was the little Sphinx girl 
whom Doris had snubbed so hard. As she 
proceeded to explain without any hesitation, 
for she was not shy, she had just been ap¬ 
pointed on the gift committee as a represen¬ 
tative of the first-year class. Her class had 
confidence in her, she said. 

Well, perhaps they were justified, for 
while she was the very freshest child I ever 
saw in my whole life, there was something 
straightforward about her, and she did not 
look or act at all like a weak character. 
She told us she thought she should like Das- 
kam High very much, and also Daskam, 
into which, from one of the suburbs, it ap- 



GREENLAND-WHITE EDITORIAL 93 


peared that her family had just moved, on 
account of her father’s being a doctor with 
an increasing city practice. I believe she 
also liked their house, which she said was a 
lovely new one, and she told us just exactly 
where it was situated, just a little beyond 
the school, where a row of bungalows had 
been finished late that summer. 

Then maybe she thought it would be in¬ 
teresting for us if we talked a while about 
ourselves, too, for she looked at my French 
books, and asked me if I liked French, and 
how old I was, and where I had got my 
pretty green dress with the red-embroidered 
collar. Then she asked Jocelyn how old she 
was, and if she didn’t just love to solve 
puzzles. 

I could see that all this attention was 
meant to be flattering, for I couldn’t believe 
that this amazing child would bother with 
us if she didn’t like us, but I could see Joce- 
lyn getting all ready to explode with im¬ 
patience over little Miss Curiosity. Then 
suddenly—and awfully sweetly, too—she 



94 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

seemed to remember her decision not to utter 
all her thoughts if it would help the difficult 
situation about the gift which we were just 
going to discuss in a few minutes. She 
smiled very kindly at Abigail, who certainly 
was rather cute in her own queer way, and 
said diplomatically, for she hates puzzles, 
really: 

“ They’re very interesting, but I’m not a 
bit good at them.” 

“ Aren’t you? I am,” announced Abigail. 
“ I love them. I have a whole shelf of books 
I got for prizes from girls’ papers for guess¬ 
ing them. I make them up, too. I make 
cross-word puzzles and rebuses and riddles 
and hidden animals and islands and all sorts 
of things. I always get at least honorable 
mention for the puzzles I make.” 

“ If you like riddles, I guess that was 
what made you think of coming to the party 
as the Sphinx,” I suggested. 

“ Yes,” said Abigail. “ You’ve got the 
idea.” 

But that was all from her just then, for 


GREEN-AND-WHITE EDITORIAL 95 

Rand Potter came prancing in with the 
latest joke, which was about how a boy in 
his Latin class had translated a sentence to 
read that the general had summoned ar- 
tesians to build a wall, meaning, of course, 
artisans! And in a minute Archer Mack- 
lyn, who was on the committee ex-officio, 
came in with two of his third-year friends, 
—John Parker, who was, at least I thought 
so then, a very dull, heavy kind of boy, 
and Larry Hill, who was the lively, good- 
natured sort. Then Doris arrived at once 
with another senior girl, Frances Walton, 
about whom the main thing was that she 
always tried to be exactly like Doris. And 
you wouldn’t have wondered if you had seen 
Doris as she came in, perfectly charming, 
in her bright orange Angora sweater she had 
got that fall, and an orange ribbon around 
her thick dark hair. I couldn’t take my eyes 
off her. 


CHAPTER VII 

JANGLINGS 

Her big brown eyes sparkled as she cried 
briskly: “All here? Splendid!” Then, 
catching sight of Abigail, whom she had 
passed on her way to the head of the table, 
“ Why, here’s our new first-year member! ” 
she added with her sweetest smile. “ It 
seemed as if they’d never appoint you! 
Don’t you want to come and sit up here be¬ 
side me? ” She pointed to a vacant seat next 
her. 

“ No,” said Abigail, with a haughty and 
prolonged sniff. 

Rand snickered right out, and Jocelyn 
nearly did, though all of us were scandalized. 
I was a little mystified also, for while Doris 
had not been very polite to Abigail at the 
Edsons’, it didn’t seem to me that Abigail 
was a small-minded person who would take 
a public revenge for an affront. I said as 
quickly as I could: 


96 


JANGLINGS 


97 


“ Doris, have you received many sugges¬ 
tions as to what people would like our gift 
to be? ” 

This was rather an abrupt plunge into 
business, but Doris looked at me gratefully, 
for Abigail’s unexpected reply had left her 
breathless and stunned and red as a beet. 

“ Not one,” she answered with a gasp, “ so 
I think the school will be glad to accept any 
recommendation the committee agrees to 
make. We ought to decide to-day, too, be¬ 
cause we move into the new building in about 
six weeks, and we want to have our gift 
ready to present then, don’t we? ” 

“ Have we still only a hundred and fifty 
dollars?” asked Frances Walton. 

“ Yes,” nodded Doris rather plaintively. 
“ Not much for two hundred and fifty peo¬ 
ple from this school to give, is it? ” 

“We couldn’t possibly buy anything for 
that sum good enough to please the student 
body,” declared Archer. “ It would be 
better to do nothing than look stingy, I 
think.” 


98 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


“ Oh, we can’t do nothing! ” cried Doris 
whimsically. 

Abigail again sniffed disdainfully and 
wouldn’t laugh at the unexpected double 
negative, though the rest of us did. 

“ In that case,” said Rand, “ there’s just 
one course open to us.” 

“ What is that, please? ” inquired Doris, 
not very warmly. 

“We must get some more money.” 

“ Oh, nonsense, Potter,” said Archer and 
John and Larry all together. “ You know 
there’s no time before the holidays to get up 
another entertainment. Nobody wants to, 
anyhow.” 

“ I see you’ve made a survey of public 
opinion,” remarked Rand, with a wide grin. 

That time Abigail snickered, it was so 
evident that they had done nothing of the 
sort and were just deciding what they 
wanted done without consulting the school at 
all. They all scowled, and so did Frances; 
but Doris, while provoked, tried to smooth 
things over for the sake of the meeting. 


JANGLINGS 


99 


44 I don’t think raising money by an en¬ 
tertainment now would be practical, really, 
Rand,” she said. “ In fact, Mr. Lane 
warned me it wouldn’t be.” 

“ He didn’t mention an entertainment,” 
suddenly announced Abigail, indicating 
Rand. “ That isn’t the only way to get 
money, anyhow.” 

“ So,” continued Doris, as if she hadn’t 
heard her at all, “ I have been wondering— 
as there haven’t been any suggestions, you 
won’t mind my making one?—whether we 
couldn’t think of a better way to use this 
money than we originally had in mind.” 

“ How would that be? ” Archer asked her. 

44 Well, we all know,” Doris began, look¬ 
ing as if she was trying to deal carefully 
and tactfully with a sore subject, 44 that the 
school spirit isn’t as good as usual just at 
present. Owing to the delay in getting into 
the new building, and this unfortunate—er 
—accident to the mural painting, and the 
—er—results of the accident, we’ve had a 
dreadfully dull, depressing autumn, and 





100 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


everybody is grumbling.” She turned to 
Jocelyn. “Don’t you find that is true?” 
she asked. 

“Yes, it is,” answered Jocelyn readily. 
“ I was hoping this committee could think of 
something to do with the fund we have that 
would interest everybody and unite the 
school again.” 

“ Exactly what I think, too! ” said Doris 
enthusiastically. “ Don’t you think, there¬ 
fore, it would be all right to take that fund 
and spend it for the benefit of the school 
in the way the school needs it most now? 
We intended to spend it for the benefit of 
the school all along, of course, and we would 
just be adapting ourselves to new circum¬ 
stances. You know, for a hundred and fifty 
dollars we could have a perfectly magnificent 
house-warming party to celebrate our mov¬ 
ing into the new building. We could have 

decorations and a band and refreshments 

* 

and speeches, and maybe an entertainer, and 
invite everybody worth while in town, and 
cheer ourselves up and make lots of new 


J ANGLINGS 101 

friends for the school, and please everybody! 
What do you all think of that? ” 

It certainly sounded fascinating the way 
she put it. 

“ It’s a gorgeous idea, and just what we 
need!” cried Frances Walton. 

“That’s the stuff!” declared Archer. 
“ I’m for it! ” And Larry and John both 
expressed entire approval. 

Doris looked much pleased at this support, 
and it did seem very nice for everybody 
to be agreeing on a plan and enthusiastic 
about putting it through, though in a vague 
sort of way you could realize you hadn’t had 
much chance to think about the idea so far. 
She turned to Abigail next, and asked her 
very politely what she thought the first year 
would think of having a house-warming. 

“ Well,” said that terrifying child slowly, 
“ in history this morning we read about the 
Roman emperor who gave the people bread 

and circuses to keep them quiet-” 

She really had to be sat on this time, so 
Jocelyn interrupted: 



102 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

“Listen, please, Doris! No doubt a 
great many people would enjoy having such 
a house-warming, but don’t you think we 
might be criticised if we tried to get one 
up? 

“ How? ” demanded Doris. 

“ Why, that money was contributed by 
the patrons of the street fair we held last 
spring, and I am sure they understood dis¬ 
tinctly that it was going for a school gift. 
In fact, that was the announced purpose of 
holding the fair—so we should be able to 
make a gift, I mean. In that case, ought 
we to take that money and give ourselves a 
a party with it? ” 

I saw Jocelyn felt that the idea of the 
party was somehow tricky and she didn’t 
like it, but she certainly spoke very re- 
strainedly and sensibly. In fact, I thought 
she did so determinedly. Doris said: 

I don’t think the patrons of the fair gave 
money for any definite gift, did they? They 
just wanted to help us, and we still want to 
help the school. Changed circumstances 


JANGLINGS 


103 


might change the manner of disposing of 
the fund, it seems to me.” 

“ But, Doris,” interposed Rand, “ if we 
should invite the whole town to this house¬ 
warming, as you suggest, we’d have got 
money from them in the first place to pay 
for their own entertainment! ” 

“ What do you think, Viola? ” asked 
Doris rather peevishly. She wasn’t fond of 
being opposed. 

“ I don’t believe we’d be allowed to do it,” 
said I, as mildly as I could, for the more 
I thought of the suggestion the less I 
thought of it, you might say. “ It would 
make us look like babies to ask permission 
to do it and be refused, you know.” 

Well, Doris had her heart set on that 
house-warming, and she was determined to 
have it, just as she had been determined to 
be queen the other night at the Edsons’. 
Archer wanted it at least as much as she 
did, if not more, so the two of them urged 
the plan for all they were worth, and 
Frances and Larry and, for a while, John, 


104 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

tried to make the rest of us like it; but, 
though not opposed in any way to parties, 
we couldn’t exactly see that we had a right 
to one like that. They got rather hot, and 
so did we. Then, after both sides had re¬ 
peated their arguments many times, and 
there was evidently nothing new to be said, 
Doris made up her mind, it seemed to me, 
to jam that recommendation through. 

She asked to have a motion made formally 
that the committee submit the idea of this 
house-warming to the students to vote on. 
Archer made it, and Frances seconded it. 
And when we voted, we were all simply 
staggered,—that is, all except John, prob¬ 
ably,—for it failed! 

You see, there were eight votes on that 
committee, not counting the chairman’s, of 
course. No doubt Doris thought there 
would be a tie between her four friends on 
one side, and Jocelyn, Abigail, Rand, and 
me on the other, so she, as chairman, would 
have to cast the deciding affirmative vote. 
It had certainly looked as if the motion was 


JANGLINGS 


105 


going through. But, to the amazement of 
everybody, John, who hadn’t spoken for the 
longest time,—though he talks very little 
anyhow and his silence aroused no suspicion, 
—swung around to the negative side and 
cast his vote with us. Evidently he thought 
his previous stand had been wrong and was 
willing to say so. He didn’t seem to have 
been just that sort before, but probably he 
did more thinking than we had given him 
credit for. So I decided not to be astonished 
again if I found that standing up for what 
seemed right won support from unexpected 
sources. But O dear me, how provoked 
Doris and Archer were! 

“ It’s all very well to be so noble,” 
snapped Doris, not so sweet as usual, “ but 
we have got to think of some way of using 
this fund that we can recommend to the 
student organization. They won’t like it a 
bit if we don’t.” 

“ They don’t like it much already because 
we haven’t,” said Rand. “ I know I’m ec¬ 
centric to go around talking to people, 


106 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

but that’s what I do, and that’s what I 
hear.” 

“ For pity’s sake, do stop being so foolish! 
And not only Rand— everybody! ” cried 
Doris, dreadfully vexed and looking rather 
queer, too, almost as if she was frightened. 
“ Here I am, the only person who can think 
of one single thing that can be done with 
the rather small sum of money we have, and 
you turn my proposal down and yet won’t 
suggest anything better! It’s not fair. The 
members of this committee ought to do some 
work, not just criticise and tease and try to 
be smart! ” 

Well, there was some truth in what she 
said, though her remarks were a little hard 
on her friends who had backed her up so 
heartily, all except John, just at the end. 
Nobody had made another suggestion, and 
nobody did. Jocelyn and I looked at each 
other, and saw the time had come when we 
could present the idea that had occurred to 
us. So forthwith, trying to be as brave as 
I could, I “ came out of my shell.” 


J ANGLINGS 107 

“ Jocelyn and I have had an idea/’ I 
began. 

“ Viola has had an idea,’’ corrected Joce¬ 
lyn. 

“ Let’s all have it! ” ordered Doris. 


CHAPTER VIII 


EXPLOITS BY ABIGAIL 

All the committee turned toward me 
most attentively, and I felt encouraged, be¬ 
cause I had faith in the idea. So I began 
quickly: 

“ I think the committee feels we ought to 
give a present to the school after all. Now, 
as you know, we have a splendid set of 
chimes, but perhaps you’ve all noticed that 
though they play all sorts of tunes, they 
never play ‘ The Star-Spangled Banner.’ ” 

“ Sure enough, they never do!” ejacu¬ 
lated Rand. “ I wonder why not? ” 

“ Because none of the bells rings a note 
that is high enough,” I explained. “ They 
can’t play the note for the word ‘ free ’ in 
the line ‘ O’er the land of the free.’ I had 
a chance to discover this a few days ago.” 

Then I told the girls and boys how Joce¬ 
lyn and I had talked to the workmen up in 

108 


EXPLOITS BY ABIGAIL 


109 


the belfry the previous Friday, and how one 
of them had rung the bells for us, and how, 
as I was blessed with a good memory for 
music, I had gone home and played the 
notes on my piano and had a delightful time 
finding which of my favorite songs came 
within their range. I had told Jocelyn all 
this previously, of course, and she also knew 
what I said next, that in the course of doing 
this I had discovered that “ The Star- 
Spangled Banner ” had to be left out. 
When I found this out, I remembered that 
I had never heard it played, even in our 
splendid patriotic holiday concerts on our 
chimes. 

“ I thought,” I concluded, “ that maybe 
if the school knew all this, they would like 
to present a bell that would have the ‘ free ’ 
note dominant, so our national anthem could 
be played whenever we wanted it. I don’t 
know how much bells cost, but, as I told you 
just now, it is the small bells which play 
the high notes. Now I wondered, if you 
liked the idea of giving a bell to complete 


110 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


this set of chimes this way, whether we 
might not find out if the school would favor 
the idea, too, and at the same time make in¬ 
quiries as to what such a bell would cost. 
Perhaps it would be within our means. 
What do you think? ” 

“ That is something like an idea! ” said 
Rand with enthusiasm. 

This was more polite to me than it was 
to Doris, and she looked very much af¬ 
fronted and snapped her lips shut. Rand 
didn’t see her, of course. Abigail said: 

“ That idea has some sense to it, and it’s 
nice, too. The first year would like it, and 
we’re the biggest class.” 

And John, by way of being even more 
tactful, observed slowly: 

“ Well, I thought that house-warming 
idea was kind of childish, when you came 
to think of it, but I don’t see why a bell 
mightn’t be very popular.” 

Doris looked so freezing that I was scared. 
Things were going the way they always do 
when advocates of some good cause, through 


EXPLOITS BY ABIGAIL 111 

lack of tact, antagonize people that are 
against it. I didn’t think we’d give any 
bell, whatever else we gave, by the way 
Doris and Frances and Larry scowled, for 
though there were enough members of the 
committee in favor of it to put a recom¬ 
mendation through, the ones against it were 
the people who had most influence in the 
student body. The latter could easily reject 
it. 

“ Well, if a bell would be popular,” said 
Jocelyn quietly, “ it might interest and unite 
the whole school, and that’s what we’re aim¬ 
ing at, isn’t it? ” 

“ Yes, exactly,” said Archer, who hadn’t 
spoken yet. He had been trying to catch 
Doris’s eye, I had noticed. He wore a 
rather anxious expression, as if he was 
worried about something and had a plan 
about it he wanted to discuss, and as he 
spoke she looked up and saw him. “ I think 
in that case it might be well to talk the idea 
up and see how it’s received. Don’t you, 
Doris? ” 


112 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


“ Well, perhaps it would be a good thing 
to do,” agreed Doris unexpectedly. “ It 
would give the school something to think 
about, anyhow, and I don’t say it’s a bad 
idea.” 

So we decided to announce the plan and 
talk it over with everybody, and, if it was 
liked, to present it for a vote at a school 
meeting called for one day next week. Then 
the ten-minute warning-bell rang, and all 
the boys scooted,—to play ball for ten 
minutes, not to get ready for class,—while 
we five girls prepared to follow them out in 
our more stately manner. Frances Wal¬ 
ton gave a loud yawn and drooped over 
the table. 

“ Gracious, what a perfect nuisance this 
gift is! ” she said languidly. “ But at least 
I got an idea for myself by coming to this 
meeting. Vote of thanks to you, Vi.” 

“ Dear me, I’m just broadcasting ideas to¬ 
day,” said I. “ Here are two already. I 
must have lost count of them. I don’t know 
what the second one is.” 


EXPLOITS BY ABIGAIL 


113 


“ It's for that bothersome Friday as¬ 
sembly/' she returned. “ Mr. Lane’s mak¬ 
ing me take charge of the program, and I 
couldn’t think of a single thing to do until 
you were talking, and then I had an inspira¬ 
tion.” 

I should explain that once a month we 
have Friday afternoon assembly, with spe¬ 
cial programs which the students run. Mr. 
Lane is very keen about them, not only be¬ 
cause he thinks it is good for us to learn 
how to amuse ourselves, but because it gives 
him a good chance to invite people to the 
school and show it off. And we are very 
keen about them because we like getting 
them up and we always have a good time. 
Frances was just pretending it was bother¬ 
some. 

“ What was the inspiration, please, if I’m 
responsible for it? ” I inquired. 

“ Mr. Lane said we’d had so many edu¬ 
cational programs lately he’d like it if we 
had an entertaining one this time, so I’m 
going to get up a singing-school. All these 


114 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 

bells and music and so forth made me think 
of having one. It will be terribly funny, 
and no trouble.” 

“ How do you get it up? ” I asked, much 
interested. 

“ You’ll see. I want you on the com-* 
mittee! ” 

“Oh, no-o-o!” I began, but Jocelyn 
wouldn’t stand for that. 

“ Of course you’ll be on it, Vi,” she told 
me firmly, grinning at Frances. “ You’re a 
public character now! We expect you to 
live up to your reputation and uphold the 
community, you understand. And while I 
don’t know what a singing-school is, I judge 
it may have something to do with singing, 
and there you might be useful. So, for¬ 
ward, march! ” 

“ All right,” I agreed meekly. “ I’ll help 
you, Frances. Thank you for asking me.” 

“ I want to be on the committee, too,” 
announced Abigail without any warning. 
“ Can I?” 

Frances was so staggered that she actually 


EXPLOITS BY ABIGAIL 115 

didn’t suggest: “May I?” A first-year 
student speaking in such a manner to 
a senior, and inviting herself to be on a 
committee—a pretty responsible and es¬ 
teemed committee, too! Abigail was indeed 
a Sphinx girl. 

“ I love to work,” declared our young 
friend sternly, obviously awaiting an answer. 
“ Oh—all right,” said Frances feebly. 

“ You may be on it.” 

“ And when do we meet? ” came back 

Abigail. 

Frances got out of her chair and sidled up 
toward Doris. 

“ Very soon,” she said. “ I’ll notify you. 
I must go to class now. So long! ” 

The two of them hurried out of the room, 
and Jocelyn and I followed, with Abigail 
firmly attached to us. We both thought she 
was terribly fresh, but it wasn t any of our 
business what she said to Frances, and 
there was something decidedly robust and 
vigorous about her that made you like her 
in spite of yourself and listen to whatever 



116 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


she said. Moreover, she had offered to re¬ 
lieve me of one of my several heavy French 
books, and, I need hardly say, had taken 
it before I could either thank her or decline 
her offer. 

“ That will be nice, won’t it, getting up 
the singing-school? ” observed Abigail. “ I 
can’t sing a bit, but I can work like fury. 
I’m glad you’re on the committee, Viola. 
I was going to ask Frances why she didn’t 
put Jocelyn on, too, but she went away. 
Here, what’s all this? ” 

She had spied a pointed book-mark stick¬ 
ing out of the book, and had the volume 
open in a twinkling. The book-mark was of 
scarlet cardboard,—indeed, it was the very 
bit of cardboard I had pulled from the bell- 
frame up in the belfry the previous week. 
When I found time to look at it I saw that 
it was designed for a marker. It was in the 
form of an elaborately-cut-out anchor stand¬ 
ing on a capital C. There was a long 
straight flap attached to turn over at the top 
and hold the marker in place. As it was 


117 


EXPLOITS BY ABIGAIL 

pretty, and strangely not at all soiled, I had 
used it. 

“Well, well, what have we here?” in¬ 
quired Abigail, scrutinizing it with eagle 
eyes as we walked down the hall. 

“ It’s a book-mark, dear child,” said Joce¬ 
lyn; but you couldn’t tease Abigail. She 
kept her eyes glued to it and merely xe- 
marked: 

“ Not yours, is it, Viola? ” 

“It is in the sense that I found it, I 

answered meekly. 

“ Why should you think it wasn’t hers? ” 
asked Jocelyn with some curiosity. 

« As long as you said you weren’t good 
at puzzles, I’ll tell you,” said Abigail kindly. 
“ This is a proper name rebus. I’ve seen 
lots of them. People mark their books and 

things with them, you know. 

“ And can you read it? ” asked Jocelyn 

respectfully. 

« Probably,” returned Abigail with due 
caution, but not without self-confidence. 
“ I’ll try. Well, here’s an anchor; that must 


118 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

mean ‘ hope/ An anchor never means any¬ 
thing else that I ever heard of. And here’s 
a capital C. Now that’s likely s-e-a, ‘ sea.’ 
It may not be, but there’s a good chance, so 
let’s try it. Hm-m-m. How’s the anchor 
connected with the C? ” 

“ It’s on top of it,” I suggested, as she 
paused in thought. 

“ The C carries it—it is carried by the 
C—it is borne by the C—borne by—the 
sea! " mused Abigail. “ The anchor is borne 
by the sea—hope is borne by the sea—I’ve 
got it! ” 

“ What is it? ” cried Jocelyn and I, both 
mystified. 

“ Why, it’s f Hope Seaborne! 3 That’s a 
girl’s name. It must be the name of the 
person this belongs to,” said Abigail. “ I 
never heard of her. Do you know her? ” 

“ No,” we gasped, stunned and delighted 
and more mystified than ever. That name 
again—“ Hope Seaborne ”—the owner of 
“ Your Birthday Fortune ”! 

“ That’s right,” announced Abigail 


EXPLOITS BY ABIGAIL 


119 


calmly. She had turned the marker inside 
out. On the very top of the anchor, which 
was so closely joined to the flap that I had 
never examined it, was written in the tiniest 
letters, but in the square-looped writing in 
the book: “ Hope Seaborne.” 


CHAPTER IX 


THE SINGING-SCHOOL 

For the next twenty-four hours Jocelyn 
and I could not cease marvelling, not only 
at the cleverness of our accomplished young 
friend, Abigail Sims, in reading the book¬ 
mark rebus with such unheard-of ease, but 
also because we were now quite satisfied that 
there must be, somewhere in Daskam, a girl 
named Hope Seaborne. 

Jocelyn had found “Your Birthday 

Fortune” down in Kendall Street, and it 

was Hope’s; and I had found a book-mark 

up in the belfry, and it was Hope’s. We 

exhausted our imaginations trying to guess 

how those two things had got into such 

curious places, and we racked our brains to 

devise some way whereby we could return 

her property—really, her treasures—to 

“ Hope,” as of course we always called her. 

But, as I pointed out to Jocelyn, the best 

120 


THE SINGING-SCHOOL 


121 


way, indeed, the only way, to solve those 
problems was to find Hope first; and, as 
Jocelyn pointed out to me, we didn’t exactly 
know how to go about doing that. And, as 
we both agreed, it was much more exciting 
and interesting to keep her a secret until 
we could tell everybody all about her. So 
we kept our discovery of her existence to 
ourselves, resolving, however, to be on the 
lookout every minute for any clue that might 
lead to finding her. 

And then directly we were occupied with 
getting up the singing-school, or, rather, I 
was, for Jocelyn was left out of it entirely, 
to my great wrath and also to her disap¬ 
pointment, I am sure, though she never said 
a word that would make you think so, and 
even pointed out to me with much truth and 
sense that if only twenty-four people were 
wanted in it, everybody in Daskam High 
School could not be included. But I alwaj^s 
thought privately that the reason Jocelyn 
was left out of the entertainment was be¬ 
cause the idea of giving a bell was received 


122 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


so favorably when it was suggested to the 
school. 

For it met with instant success! The fact 
that this new bell, small though it might be, 
would complete the set of chimes so that 
they could play “The Star-Spangled Ban¬ 
ner,” seemed to grip everybody’s imagina¬ 
tion. There was more enthusiasm and har¬ 
mony over the idea than one would have 
thought possible in a community where two 
hundred and fifty people frequently seemed 
to have about as many different opinions on 
a given subject! Mr. Lane, too, liked the 
proposal immensely, and told us he would 
see about getting proper permission from 
the city to add it to the memorial chimes. 
He did caution us that bells were pretty ex¬ 
pensive, but everybody said that the one we 
wanted to buy would be small, and when I 
tell you that somebody proposed that if we 
needed more than a hundred and fifty dol¬ 
lars we could be taxed up to thirty cents 
apiece, and that the proposal was declared 
on all sides to be excellent, perhaps you will 


THE SINGING-SCHOOL 123 

agree with me that enthusiasm could go no 
farther! 

Our leading set did not, it was true, seem 
especially excited about the idea, and kept 
cautioning us that the bell would have to be 
ordered almost immediately if we wanted it 
by New Year’s, for it seemed that bells must 
remain undisturbed quite a while after be¬ 
ing cast, so the metal can cool off. They 
pointed out that decisions made too quickly 
are often regretted, and appeared somehow 
to be trying to delay action on the proposal, 
until everybody except themselves, it seemed 
to me, with one exception, began to make 
harsh remarks about tyranny and oppres¬ 
sion, which all the leading set ignored. The 
exception was Rand Potter, and he made 
up the following riddle: 

“ What should be our leaders’ favorite 
American historical object? 

“ Ans . The Liberty Bell! ” 

While not exactly brilliant, it seemed 
very timely and apropos and made every- 


124 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


body laugh, and then suddenly all the op¬ 
position agreed that perhaps after all a bell 
was just the right thing. They couldn’t 
stand a joke at all. So when the school 
held a meeting, it was tentatively decided to 
give a bell if practicable, and the secretary 
was instructed to write to the foundry that 
had cast the other bells and ask for prices 
and all necessary information, and every¬ 
body was pleased again. 

And what had pleased people most about 
the origin of the idea of getting a bell was 
the way Jocelyn had come to find out about 
bells in general by climbing into the belfry 
and talking to the workmen. I got all the 
credit any one could want, in fact, much 
more than I deserved, for making the con¬ 
crete suggestion, for I agreed with public 
opinion fully that if Jocelyn hadn’t climbed 
into the belfry probably no one would ever 
have thought of giving a bell. Her jolly ad¬ 
venturous disposition got a real tribute, and 
people began to pay quite a lot of attention 
to her and to what she said, whereas before 


THE SINGING-SCHOOL 


125 


they had just thought she was a lot of fun. 
But it was no wonder they did so, for while 
she was as lively as ever, she seemed some¬ 
how steadier and less impetuous, almost as 
if the idea of the bell had taught her some 
sort of secret. 

Of course I couldn’t have been the only 
person who noticed the change in her, or the 
attention she got. One day Frances said to 
me: 

“ Viola, dear, you know I did think of 
asking Jocelyn to help with the singing- 
school, but it seems to me now that maybe 
it would be a little mean to do so.” 

“ Why? ” I asked, surprised at first. 

“ Well, she’s always so busy in the after¬ 
noons in the studio that maybe she couldn’t 
come to meetings, and, anyway, she’s on the 
gift committee. We mustn’t duplicate that 
in the singing-school committee, really. 
Doris was cautioning me about that.” 

“ I’m on the gift committee, too,” said I. 

“ Ah, but you’re musical, and I must have 
another musician to help me, and Jocelyn 


126 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

isn’t musical at all, you know. That’s an¬ 
other reason for not asking her, really, 
though I wouldn’t ever tell her so, of 
course.” 

I didn’t say anything, but I felt disgusted, 
for Frances had originally wanted Jocelyn 
for stage-manager, and she wouldn’t have 
had to sing a note. Abigail Sims, who pro¬ 
claimed that she was about as musical as 
a crow, was on the committee. I saw 
Frances was just making a pretext not to 
have Jocelyn, because Jocelyn was a 
younger student who was getting popular 
and had different ideas from those of 
Frances and her friends. 

Well, the omission turned out for the best, 
in the end, but that was to Jocelyn’s credit, 
and nobody else’s. 

However, the singing-school went for¬ 
ward at a rapid pace, and that was largely 
to Frances’s credit, for she was an able 
organizer, though I cannot think a very 
tactful one. She was so anxious to make 
the affair a success that she didn’t seem to 


THE SINGING-SCHOOL 


127 


understand that people have feelings even 
when they are working for a cause. She 
chose about twenty good singers from 
among the four classes and several other 
people to act comic characters, among them 
Wilbur and Rand, who were to be respec¬ 
tively the squire, patron of the old-fashioned 
singing-school, and his black man-servant, 
Washington Jefferson. Being respectively 
stout and stately, and slim and spry, and 
willing to go to no end of trouble about cos¬ 
tumes and make-up, these boys promised to 
add much to the occasion, when suddenly 
Frances decided that Washington Jeffer¬ 
son must be able to play the fiddle. It was 
one day at recess, and a number of us were 
in the senior room talking. 

“ Why? ” I asked, for Rand and Wilbur, 
who were there, were too astonished to 
speak. 

“ It would look so amusing, and improve 
the music.” 

“ But Rand doesn’t play, and we didn’t 
expect it of him when we chose him-” 



128 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


“ I’ve said before, lots of times,” inter¬ 
rupted Frances quite sharply, “ that we 
really have to make this up as we go along; 
that’s the way singing-schools are got up, 
and it saves a great deal of trouble rehears¬ 
ing—there’s no fixed plot or dialogue. So 
we’re likely to think of improvements from 
time to time—we have already, as you know, 
in changing some of the songs. The squire’s 
black man-servant must play the fiddle, 
that’s all. It’s the right business for him.” 

She was like a steam-roller, and I felt 
crushed, being much younger and less ex¬ 
perienced, though not so much so that I did 
not connect cause and effect. Rand’s 
Liberty-Bell joke was then two days old 
and still going strong! I did think she was 
awfully arbitrary, though the idea of the 
fiddle was good, but what right had she to 
ask Rand and then hint she didn’t want him 
because he didn’t have a certain ability she 
never had thought of in the first place? She 
put him in a hard position, and Wilbur, too, 
for that matter, for Wilbur was madder on 


THE SINGING-SCHOOL 


129 


Rand’s account than Rand was on his own, 
yet he couldn’t back out of the entertain¬ 
ment because he was mad, or tell a girl what 
he thought of her. He glared at her, 
though, and Rand rushed to the rescue. 

“ All right, Frances, get somebody that 
can play a fiddle, if you want to. I’ll do 
another part.” 

Now it was she who glared! Of course 
she had been trying to put him out of the 
show, and he didn’t see it. Rand is rather 
dense sometimes. I have never known 
whether he does it on purpose or not. Any¬ 
way, he went right on: 

“Say, I tell you what! I’ll be an In¬ 
dian boy! All dressed up in costume! 
Whoop-ee-ee! Heap fine stunt! ” 

“ An Indian boy in a singing-school! ” 
ejaculated Frances with a disdainful laugh. 
“ I never heard of such a thing! ” 

“ No,” said Abigail. 

Frances jumped. She had forgotten 
Abigail was there. But there she was, mak¬ 
ing copies of the songs. Frances looked 


130 THE CHIMES OF D ASK AM HIGH 


very suspiciously at her, but of course 
Abigail might have been agreeing with 
her after all, so she didn’t exactly know 
what to say. 

“ But,” continued Abigail, “ I do not see 
why one should be an anachronism in an old- 
time village singing-school. There are many 
examples in history of Indians who took 
part in the community life of the white set¬ 
tlers. For instance, we have the Stockbridge 
Indians in Massachusetts, and the Mohicans 
who participated in the Revolution in New 
York, and Sacajawea, the Indian woman 
who guided Lewis and Clark on their way 
to Oregon, and-” 

Frances put her fingers in her ears, and 
Rand and Wilbur were already in hysterics, 
for Abigail was plainly about to take us 
through the other forty-five States and 
Alaska with instances of friendly and edu¬ 
cated Indians. “ All right, all right,” said 
Frances irritably; “ be an Indian boy if you 
like, Rand. I don’t know that it’s such a 
bad idea.” But when the boys had gone, she 



THE SINGING-SCHOOL 131 

asked Abigail why she couldn’t ever mind 
her own business. 

“ I do,” said Abigail, unruffled, gazing at 
Frances, not rudely, but as if she had been 
something to observe in the laboratory and 
write conclusions about. Frances fidgeted 
and began to fuss about the program. It 

wasn’t quite long enough. 

“ I tell you what would be funny,” she 
said suddenly. “ We might have a singing- 
test—have a new pupil who has to sing alone 
so as to be classified by the teacher, and have 
the pupil absolutely without any ear, so as 

to do nothing but squawk.” 

All of us agreed that if well done that 
would be very funny indeed, and then sud 
denly Abigail went on writing again very 
industriously. You know how sometimes 
things go through your mind as clear and 
quick as a flash of lightning? Well, I hardly 
needed to look at Frances. I suddenly knew 
that it had occurred to her that Abigail, 
whose appearance was quite comic, and who 
had no ear whatever, could be very funny in 


132 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

the role of the new pupil. And at the same 
instant I knew that Abigail’s pluck wouldn’t 
let her refuse to do the part if it was sug¬ 
gested to her, but somehow she felt awfully 
bad that she was funny-looking and so dif¬ 
ferent from the rest of us, even though part 
of the difference was that she was so much 
brighter. 

Well, I suddenly did what was a queer 
thing for me to do, I am ashamed to say, 
but anyway I did it. I plucked up enough 
courage to make a stand right away and 
alone. I said: 

“ I want that part! ” 

“Why, Viola! You’re going to sing 
* Eileen Aroon ’ as a solo. You couldn’t do 
that and fail in a test, too,” said Frances, not 
a bit pleased, and, I could see, rather taken 
aback. 

“ But don’t you see that it would be ever 
so much funnier if some one whom every¬ 
body knows can sing should pretend to 
fail? ” I insisted. She couldn’t say that it 
wouldn’t be. I pressed my advantage. 


THE SINGING-SCHOOL 133 

“ Give one of the other girls ‘ Eileen Aroon,’ 
—lots of them sing better than I do. I want 
to be the new pupil. I think it would be 
ever so much fun, myself, but lots of people 
who can sing wouldn’t like to seem to fail, 
not a bit! ” 

This was true enough, and she didn’t quite 
dare to offer the part to Abigail then, so 
reluctantly she said I might take it. Abigail 
never spoke a word the whole time. 

I did feel awfully sore about giving up 
my pet song, and yet when I thought the 
matter over afterwards I could have no re¬ 
grets for having acted as I did, and though 
I did not exactly understand what had made 
me do it, I felt a lot better than I ever had 
before—stronger and more independent, I 
mean. When I told J ocelyn about it all she 
said perhaps I was finally coming to life, but 
she gave me a hug also, and agreed that at 
least the singing-school promised to be a 
joyous spectacle. 

Well, it was, for it had been very interest¬ 
ing to get up, though, as Frances had 


134 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


promised us, not much trouble. As she was 
the one who knew just how it should be 
run, she was the singing-mistress, and she 
wore a lavender-and-white dress with 
flounces which had belonged to her grand¬ 
mother, and a tall white cap with a black- 
velvet band, and made a very good picture 
of a New England lady of a century ago. 
The girls wore gingham dresses and aprons 
and sunbonnets, and the boys appeared in 
shirt-sleeves and overalls, and when we came 
on the platform one by one and curtsied to 
the singing-mistress and then took our places 
in front of her desk, all the audience started 
to laugh immediately, which, as you know 
if you have ever been in an entertainment 
that is supposed to be funny, was very en¬ 
couraging to the actors. 

None of us had any speeches to learn, 
not even Frances, on whom the whole pro¬ 
gram depended. But she kept up a steady 
flow of remarks and directions to the class, 
and asked us many questions which of 
course we had to answer, and kept rebuking 


THE SINGING-SCHOOL 


135 


us and exhorting us until I thought our own 
real teachers in the audience would never 
stop chuckling. Of course at our one re¬ 
hearsal we had arranged a lot of stage busi¬ 
ness to give her a chance to talk about 
something besides the songs. The girls 
whispered and passed notes, and the boys 
yawned and pulled off the girls’ hair- 
ribbons,—the back row of “ trebles ” was 
composed of girls with long hair for this 
express purpose, and they sat directly in 
front of the “ tenors,”—and then at intervals 
all would behave and “ render selections.” 
The musical program, which had been made 
up after considerable thought, because it 
had to be largely composed of old-fashioned 
songs which we all knew, was as follows, 
lettered in old English on a big piece of 
cardboard placed on the platform where all 
could see it, and anticipate the amusement 
it provoked, though the volume of applause 
after each effort came as a surprise to even 
the hard-working performers and their able 
leader: 


136 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 
TUNES BY Y e SYNGYNG SCHOLARES 


1. Funiculi, Funicula. 

2. My Dame Has a Lame Tame Crane (Round). 

3. The Owl and the Pussy Cat. 

(By Y e Young Men.) 

4. Music in the Air. 

(In four parts.) 

5. Eileen Aroon. 

(Solo.) 

6. I Went to the Animal Fair. 

7. Jingle Bells. 

(By Y e Young Women.) 

8. High on a Hill above the Sea. 

(Daskam High School Song.) 

The musical performances were inter¬ 
spersed with various features, such as my 
singing-test, wherein I failed most lamen¬ 
tably and shed quarts of tears, to the ac¬ 
companiment of continuous laughter, I am 
glad to say; and playing on the fiddle by 
Washington Jefferson, who was as black as 
burnt cork could make him, and who wore 
a green coat with brass buttons and a white 
wig made with immense labor out of cotton¬ 
batting; and an instructive address with 
Latin quotations made by the squire (Wil- 


THE SINGING-SCHOOL 


137 


bur) to the scholars; and a great deal of 
impromptu “ business ” by Rand, who was 
quite irrepressible in a vast war-bonnet and 
a splendid Paisley shawl, which he had ap¬ 
propriated out of a trunk in his mother’s 
storeroom, thinking it just old trash, though 
she told him and everybody else afterwards 
that it was worth a hundred and twenty dol¬ 
lars at least. And as things turned out, it 
was one absurd thing which Rand made up 
on the spur of the minute that had the most 
tremendous effect on the future of the whole 
school. 

One of the girls who sat in the front row 
of “ trebles ” had set off her red-and-white 
checked gingham frock with a pair of the 
brightest scarlet stockings ever seen in the 
world, I am sure, and Rand, perceiving them 
during the squire’s speech, made a striking 
interruption by beginning to shiver violently 
inside his Paisley blanket, and then forth¬ 
with he knelt down and pretended to warm 
his hands before the fiery red ankles! It 
did look too ridiculous for words. 


138 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


Now of course I had not had much op¬ 
portunity to observe the visitors that day, 
though Jocelyn, who was sitting in the row 
behind them, had an excellent one, as she 
told me afterwards. The two sitting along¬ 
side of Mr. Lane, who was on the aisle, she 
noticed especially, for he was paying them 
a great deal of attention. One was quite an 
elderly lady, and the other, whom Jocelyn 
took for her daughter, was a girl about six¬ 
teen in a big black hat and a yellow sport 
cape. She was very merry over the whole 
performance, Jocelyn said, but when Rand 
suddenly pranced up to the red stockings 
she simply shrieked right out and couldn’t 
stop for ever so long; and Mr. Lane, who 
has been known to get much provoked at 
the girls in his school when they started to 
laugh and couldn’t stop, looked pleased to 
death! And then, Jocelyn said, the elderly 
lady, who had been rather stiff, melted and 
seemed quite enchanted to hear the setting 
of “ Eileen Aroon ” because it was the one 
she had learned when she was a girl and 


THE SINGING-SCHOOL 139 

never seen or heard since, she said. Then 
Mr. Lane turned around and asked Jocelyn 
if that setting was not in our school song- 
book, for, of course not always being present 
at song-practice, he wasn’t sure. And she 
told him it was, and offered to go and get 
him one of the books from the music-room, 
and in this way unfortunately missed the 
rendering of the “ Animal Fair,” which was 
unanimously pronounced to be very spirited. 
But the lady was very much pleased to re¬ 
ceive a copy of the old song, and Jocelyn 
got back in time to join with the rest of 
the audience in 

“ High on a hill above the sea, 

Chimes ring out their melody,” 

and all the rest of our favorite Daskam 
song, which closed the merriest assembly we 
had ever held, and, if we had only known it, 
the most important one! 


CHAPTER X 


OURSELVES 

It was on the very next Tuesday that we 
got the first hint—though then we did not 
know it was even a hint—of the importance 
of that assembly. Late that afternoon Joce¬ 
lyn and I had an unusual experience. We 
had been studying in the school library, and 
came down the front steps at just five 
o'clock to meet Doris Hart coming up. She 
said she had forgotten her orange sweater, 
which she had taken off in school because it 
had been such a warm day, and she had 
come back for it because it was long-haired 
Angora wool and too nice to leave in the 
coat-room all night. As twilight was ap¬ 
proaching, we offered to wait for her and 
then walk home together. She gladly 
agreed to this, and hurried indoors, and as 
we two were still standing by the steps, Mr. 
Lane came out. 

“ How would you two young ladies like 

140 




“ OURSELVES ” 


141 


to step across the street with me and look 
at our mural painting which Mr. Pollock is 
completing? ” he asked. 

We both gave a gasp of delight. This 
was unheard-of good news! Had the artist 
finally relented? 

“ Why, we’d love to! ” we both exclaimed 
at once; and Jocelyn added, “ I didn’t 
know-” 

“You didn’t know it was being com¬ 
pleted? ” said Mr. Lane. “ Yes, the artist 
resumed work on it yesterday, and it will be 
finished by the time we’re ready to move into 
the new building.” 

“How perfectly gorgeous!” I cried. 
“ And it will be ever so exciting to see it 
now, Mr. Lane! ” 

“ Well, there’s no rule that says students 
mustn’t go into that building when accom¬ 
panied by the principal,” said Mr. Lane 
good-humoredly; “ and Miss Gay’s reputa¬ 
tion for going into unusual places, with her 
bodyguard, Miss Bruce, tempts me to invite 

you.” 



142 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

We laughed at this allusion to our trip 
up into the belfry, and were also pleased be¬ 
cause Mr. Lane’s invitation convinced us 
that he had confidence in us and felt we had 
had no connection with the accident, who¬ 
ever might have had. Just at that moment 
Doris came running out, carrying her 
sweater. Mr. Lane at once included her 
when he heard we were waiting for her, and 
we crossed the street and went up the new 
steps with quite a thrill. He held open the 
front door for us while we peeped into the 
big bare hall, with its great windows along 
all the front of the building, and its beauti¬ 
ful curving staircase, and then up at the 
first landing, where Mr. Pollock was stand¬ 
ing in his long buff smock, just putting up 
his brushes for the night. 

“ May we intrude? ” inquired Mr. Lane. 

“ That is, may we if we don’t come any far¬ 
ther? ” 

“ Come as far as you like into my school! ” 
urged Mr. Pollock hospitably. 

So we all went in, and we three girls stood 


“ OURSELVES ” 


143 


down at the front of the hall to look up for 
a good view of the mural painting while Mr. 
Lane mounted the stairs to Mr. Pollock’s 
side and the latter pointed out some details 
of the work to him. 

“ Isn’t it just the loveliest picture in the 
world for a school? ” whispered Jocelyn. 

Indeed, it was so lovely that for a moment 
I couldn’t find breath to answer her. We 
could see it all now, not in bits and dimly, 
as we had seen it before from the second- 
story window across the street, but close up, 
and in all its beauty, which was already great 
and promised to be splendid when com¬ 
pleted. There were six panels across the 
rear wall, done in the most charming pastel 
colors, their pale hues blending like a rain¬ 
bow, and each panel showing girls and boys, 
or girls or boys, having a wonderful time at 
school. There was one of workers in a 
laboratory, and another of artists in a studio, 
and a third of carpentry students, so natural 
you could almost smell the shavings! Then 
there was a most spirited debate going on 


144 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

in another picture, and in still another the 
most exciting hockey match between two 
girls’ teams, and what looked like the last 
minute of a baseball game with the score 
tied, the figures were so full of action! 
Why, the whole series made you actually 
believe that Daskam High School had sud¬ 
denly come to life right in that hall. 

“ How do you like the pictures, young 
ladies? ” asked Mr. Pollock, turning around. 
He was a gray-haired man with a rather 
severe expression, and yet when he smiled, 
as he did now, you could see that he might 
be very jolly. “ Do you think they’re ap¬ 
propriate? ” 

Jocelyn was still the only one of us able 
to speak. 

“ Oh, we just love them!” she cried en¬ 
thusiastically. “ How do you ever make 
them so—so alive? Why, they’re— our¬ 
selves! ” 

Mr. Pollock laughed, but he was tre¬ 
mendously pleased. “ I’m glad you’ve given 
them that title,” he said. “ I think per- 



“ OURSELVES ” 


145 


haps the main reason I was able to paint 
them is that I have a young niece who helps 
me greatly.” 

“ Oh, does she paint, too? ” asked Jocelyn 
respectfully. 

“ No, she doesn’t paint, though she’s 
something of an artist in her own way, but 
I talked over my ideas for these pictures 
with her, and she criticised them very help¬ 
fully, and gave me some new ones. She in¬ 
sisted, for instance, that the girls should have 
just as much space as the boys, and if you 
count the figures in the panels, you’ll find 
just as many girls as boys—no more, 
though! She said there mustn’t be any 
more, either! ” 

“ Is she in school herself? ” asked Jocelyn, 
much interested, as we all were, of course. 

“ Not here in Daskam,” said Mr. Pollock, 
“ though she’s a schoolgirl. She’s just six¬ 
teen. Our home is in Hollins, a couple of 
hundred miles away. My niece is really just 
like my daughter, for my wife and I have 
brought her up since she was a baby. Well, 


146 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


I’m glad you like the pictures. I thought 
that what my girl liked, other young folks 
probably would like, too.” 

Then he turned to Mr. Lane again, and 
Jocelyn whispered to Doris and me that he 
must be a wonderful uncle, and I thought 
how proud his niece must be to help him 
with his work. Then in a minute Mr. Lane 
started to leave, and we tiptoed a few steps 
closer to take a final look at the paintings. 
Mr. Pollock was saying good-by and just 
finishing a sentence: 

“—yes, it was smeared,”—he turned and 
pointed with a brush to the last painting of 
the series, that of the baseball game, which 
was down on the floor-level at the right of 
the staircase,—“ but we got the threads off 
and it’s all right, after all.” 

“ You’re not leaving us for some time, I 
hear? ” said Mr. Lane. 

“ No, sir, I’m staying on after this work 
is done to make some winter sea-studies. 
We don’t go until after New Year’s.” 

“ I hope to see you often, then,” said Mr. 





“ OURSELVES ” 


147 


Lane. “ We’re as much in debt to you for 
your patience as for your art, and that’s 
very deep in debt! ” 

We then left the building, and as we 
walked to the corner, where he left us, he 
explained his remark to us. I think he 
wanted to give us a hint of what Mr. Pol¬ 
lock had done for the school. We could see 
ourselves how fine his work was, and we 
could understand now what pains he had 
taken to make the pictures suit our taste,— 
young people’s taste,—rather than that of 
grown-up people who weren’t going to the 
school. Then his work had been injured, 
and to injure an artist’s work, Mr. Lane 
said, is to hurt his feelings so deeply that 
he wants to give right up! But Mr. Pollock, 
in spite of his hurt feelings and the fact that 
the agreement of leaving his work absolutely 
undisturbed while it was being done had 
been broken, had decided that it would be 
better in the end if he finished it for us just 
as it had been intended in the beginning. 
Mr. Lane thought undoubtedly his niece’s 


148 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 


interest in it had influenced him, and we 
thought she must be a wonderful girl. 

After we turned the corner we three girls 
went on together several blocks to Doris’s 
street, from which point, after she had 
bidden us good-night, Jocelyn and I went 
on to Poplar Avenue. As soon as we were 
out of earshot, Jocelyn said: 

“Vi, did you notice that 4 good-night ’ 
was the first and only remark Doris made 
since we walked over to the new building? ” 

“ I did,” I answered. “ First, I thought 
she was just tired, and then I thought maybe 
our childish raptures over the paintings 
bored her.” 

“ We’d have heard about that if they 
had,” observed Jocelyn mischievously. 
“ Then Doris never said a word to Mr. Pol¬ 
lock, and generally she’s so ready to enter¬ 
tain visitors and so good at doing it, too. I 
wonder if anything is the matter with her.” 

“ I’ve wondered that, too,” I confessed, 
“ and not for the first time just now. You 
remember, Jocelyn, the other day in the 


“ OURSELVES ” 


149 


committee meeting when we were trying to 
decide about the gift? ” Jocelyn nodded 
sagely. “ Did it strike you then as if she 
and her four friends had arranged before¬ 
hand just what they would say to make their 
plan go through? ” 

“ With great force it struck me,” an¬ 
swered Jocelyn. “ First she would speak, 
and then one of them would ask her a ques¬ 
tion to help her expand her remarks, and 
then somebody else would approve what she 
suggested, and then she made that long 
speech about the house-warming—a very 
good speech indeed, but it sounded as if it 
had been written out beforehand.” 

“ That meeting,” I declared, “ was never 
called to hold any discussion.” 

“ When the rest of us made suggestions, 
they sounded more like interruptions.” 

“ She and Archer were absolutely giving 
signals to each other, though dear knows 
what they were all about,” said I im¬ 
patiently. 

“ Oh, well,” said Jocelyn soothingly, “ if 



150 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 

that crowd was trying to put over some 
private scheme for having their own way, it 
fell through, so let’s forget it.” 

“ It failed only for the time being, I am 
positive.” 

“ Why such a warning tone, Viola? ” 

“ Because I have a feeling that one failure 
won’t discourage them from trying to get 
their own way about something. What? I 
don’t know, exactly. But look here, Joce¬ 
lyn, they’re trying awfully hard to be popu¬ 
lar.” 

“ They are popular.” 

“ Of course they are, especially since 
they’ve fallen in line about giving the bell. 
But it seems to me they’re acting queerly. 
They can’t bear anybody to do anything or 
get any credit but themselves. You haven’t 
any idea what times we had on that singing- 
school committee.” 

And after all their toil,” said Jocelyn 
whimsically, “ you and Rand made two of 
the big hits in the piece, and Abigail did 
all the hard work stage-managing! ” 


“ OURSELVES ” 


151 


“ Oh, Jocelyn,” said I seriously, “ every¬ 
body in that entertainment got credit. The 
performance itself was just an example of 
what team-work does. What I am worried 
about is the awful determination to have 
your own way that seems to possess those 
gift-committee people we were talking 
about, and all their crowd. What do they 
care about anybody else, or law, or order, 
or rules? If they cared one rap, they 
wouldn’t have tried to jam that house¬ 
warming through the committee meeting 
and shove everybody that didn’t agree with 
their views out of the singing-school. Other 
people have rights, you know, and it would 
not have been really honest not to use that 
money for a gift. They can’t like being 
balked in their plans. I believe they have 
a new one under way. Doris is acting too 
queerly.” 

“ Well, they can’t do much without 
Archer, and he’s been away sick two days 
this week,” said Jocelyn, who was always 
inclined to be optimistic. 46 Whenever he 


152 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


gets back, he’ll have to start work on the 
year-book at once. That’s always so im¬ 
portant I don’t believe he’ll have time for 
any private schemes for his own crowd.” 

“ I hope he’ll have sense enough to ap¬ 
point you on the publication board,” said I 
vigorously. 

“Not a chance! ” said Jocelyn, shaking 
her head. “ For that, they’re bound to 
choose people who’ve shown more executive 
ability.” 

“ Pshaw! They’ve got to get some peo¬ 
ple who can draw.” 

“ If they only would! Viola, if you will 
swear not to tell one living soul, I will con¬ 
fide to you that there is nothing in the whole 
world I want more than to help get up that 
book! ” 

I squeezed Jocelyn’s arm without saying 
anything. I certainly did hope she could be 
appointed on that board, for not only did 
she want it, but it was one of the biggest 
honors in school. For that reason, though, 
older students usually got it. 


“ OUESELVES ” 


153 


“ Well, I’m not going even to think about 
it,” she said resolutely. “ Vi, how many 
more thousand miles do we have to hike to 
be eligible for the hiking club? ” 

I was record-keeper for our walks, so I 
took out my little note-book from my pocket 
and looked at the last entry. “ Twenty-two 
miles more,” I answered. 

“ Then let’s knock off four more to-mor¬ 
row afternoon, shall we? That sky says 
clear weather, and I guess a little wind won t 
scare us.” 

I looked westward with her, for, as we 
live by the sea, we know all the sailors’ signs 
of weather, and one of them which fore¬ 
casts wind is “ a bright yellow sky at sun¬ 
set,” and the sky on the horizon was almost 
ochre. We had just reached my garden- 
gate. 

“ Very well,” I agreed. “ But I tell you 
there’s something in the wind about that 
school gift! ” 

And though Jocelyn’s arm is long, I got 
inside the gate and shut it before she could 


154 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

punish me as I no doubt deserved. But, to 
the complete amazement of both of us, we 
found out the very next day what the some¬ 
thing was! 


CHAPTER XI 


THE LETTER FROM THE FOUNDRY 

But we did not find it out in the morn¬ 
ing, for then the main item of interest was 
the news that the mural painting was to be 
completed after all, and at once. Every¬ 
body in school was ever so much pleased; in¬ 
deed, for a short while we all seemed to 
forget the gloomy autumn weeks we had 
come through, in the joy of the present 
moment. Jocelyn and I were the envied of 
all because Mr. Lane had taken us inside 
the new building to see the painting, and we 
were called on many times that morning to 
describe all the glory of its details to our 
less fortunate classmates, and of course the 
information was immediately picked up by 
our bright little Abigail, who waylaid us in 
the hall between classes and eagerly ex¬ 
tracted the whole story from us again. 

“ Just to think of you two girls being the 

155 


156 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

first people taken to see the painting! ” she 
exclaimed. “ Well, anyhow, I’ll say Mr. 
Lane has good taste in choosing his com¬ 
pany.” 

“ He’d love to know you thought so, 
Abigail,” teased Jocelyn. “He asked 
Doris, too, you know.” 

“ Doris Hart? Was she there? ” queried 
Abigail, rather taken aback for once in her 
life, as Jocelyn had meant her to be. How¬ 
ever, she rallied quickly. “ Did she like it? ” 

“ The painting? Why, we all were just 
wild about it,” said I. “ There she is now, 
if you want to ask her yourself.” 

But Abigail didn’t offer to, and, indeed, 
few people even as fresh as she was would 
have asked Doris unnecessary questions just 
then, she looked so tired. She hadn’t any 
color at all, and she wore a frown of worry 
between her eyes. Anyway, when she saw 
Abigail she came straight over toward the 
three of us and spoke to her first. 

Abigail, does your father think Archer 
is very sick? ” 


LETTER FROM FOUNDRY 157 

“He didn’t say so,” answered Abigail; 
“ he said he had a terrible attack of indiges¬ 
tion on Monday, but he thinks he’ll be all 
right before long.” 

“ Oh, I’m glad,” said Doris with relief; 
“ everybody has been saying he was awfully 
sick. Two of the boys went to the Macklyn 
House to see him yesterday, but they weren’t 
allowed to. His father told them Doctor 
Sims didn’t want him to see anybody yet, 
and when they asked Mr. Macklyn how he 
had got sick he said he absolutely didn’t 
know himself. So I was afraid something 
bad might be the matter.” 

“No, I don’t think so,” said Abigail. 

Doris moved away, and I said: 

“ It will be too bad if Archer isn’t back 
pretty soon. People are beginning to 
grumble because he hasn’t even begun to 
appoint the year-book committee. Some of 
them think he’s delaying just as he did in 
regard to the school meeting last fall. He 
really should have begun to make the ap¬ 
pointments last week—that would have 


158 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


been about the time they always start work 
on the year-book.” 

“ Tell me what that is,” commanded 
Abigail. 

I had no objections to obeying, and 
neither had Jocelyn, for Daskam Days and 
Doings, as the year-book is called, is perhaps 
our favorite school enterprise. It is started 
late in the fall by a committee representing 
all four classes, and its object is to make a 
beautiful, interesting record of each year at 
Daskam. This one, which would come out 
late in the spring, the regular time of pub¬ 
lication, would be the tenth issued, and it 
would join the long row of bright-colored 
volumes on the shelf in the library where 
our recreation books are, and would be 
pored over by generations of eager Daskam 
students, just as the other nine had been 
pored over by ourselves and our prede¬ 
cessors in leisure hours. The committee 
wrote all the history and the verse and the 
reports and the records that filled the book, 
and they drew the illustrations, and took the 


LETTER FROM FOUNDRY 159 

photographs, and decided on the binding and 
the printing, and collected the advertise¬ 
ments and read the proof and finally sold the 
book, and, if possible, made just enough 
money on it to give the school some excursion 
or entertainment. And everybody who had 
ever been on a Days and Doings board said 
there was no fun like it in all the world; 
and the very ablest and most gifted students 
gave the best they had in them to make the 
history of each year a shining mark in the 
story of Daskam. And it had seemed to 
me last year, when I went on the excursion 
we took to Silver Island,—lunch on the boat, 
and a visit to a Revolutionary general’s 
headquarters with a secret passage, and a 
field-day afterwards,—that I had never seen 
the school spirit so wonderful as the year¬ 
book seemed to have made it. 

So naturally everybody was more than 
eager for work to be begun on it promptly, 
and, as the day wore on and there was no 
further news about Archer’s return, we all 
began to forget how happy we had been that 



1G0 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

morning over “ Ourselves,” which had been 
unanimously chosen as the name for our 
painting, and to feel gloomy premonitions 
about the year-book. I felt very glad when 
my classes were over and it was time to go 
walking with Jocelyn at half-past three, 
which was the time we had agreed on. But 
doubtless I should have vastly preferred the 
gloom about the year-book, had I known the 
discovery just awaiting us both. 

We came upon it in the most unexpected 
place. It certainly should have been Joce¬ 
lyn who made the investigation, but it was 
I who happened to get into the unexpected 
place first that time. 

I had agreed to go up to her studio for 
her, as she said that about half-past three she 
thought she would have just finished a char¬ 
coal study she was making. Advanced art 
students, like her, work alone much of the 
time, and the teacher comes in every hour 
or so and helps them. When I got up to 
the top floor, there didn’t seem to be a soul 
around. All was as quiet as the middle of 


LETTER FROM FOUNDRY 161 


the night as I walked down the hall to 
Jocelyn’s studio, but just before I reached 
the door I heard a queer squeaky noise com¬ 
ing out of another door which was just this 
side of that studio. I knew it was the door 
which opened into the art-department store¬ 
room. It stopped a second, so I went right 
on, giving it no farther thought. But I had 
not gone more than a couple of steps when 
the noise began again. 

I thought it must be our janitor’s cat, a 
great favorite in the school, named, owing 
to his intrepidity and warlike appearance, 
Colonel Whiskers. The Colonel’s fearless¬ 
ness occasionally leads him into situations 
more difficult to get out of than into, and 
I thought he must have wandered into the 
storeroom and had the door shut on him, 
so I opened it and looked in. And there, 
among all the plaster casts and stacks of 
paper and boxes of pencils and thumb-tacks 
and bottles of fixative, lying on the floor 
and weeping her heart out in the most ter¬ 
rible distress, was—Doris Hart! 


162 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


She didn’t move, and I saw she hadn’t 
heard me. I was immensely thankful, and 
shut the door noiselessly at once, glad be¬ 
yond words that I had not happened to call 
out to the Colonel. And then through the 
door suddenly came that queer little noise 
again, only a trifle louder than before. 
Doris evidently was strangling herself in an 
attempt to choke her sobs, but she couldn’t 
do it. I was afraid she was losing control 
of herself. I did wish I could help her, but 
I realized that would have been a very hard 
thing to do. Plainly she had come up here 
to be alone. I was in a terribly embarrass¬ 
ing position, but almost immediately it was 
clear to me that she would very likely be 
discovered in such a way that she would be 
in a worse one, and she knew I had always 
liked her. I really had to try to help her, 
so I screwed up my courage, rattled the 
door-handle a bit, then popped in for one 
instant and said all in one breath, “ Excuse 
me, Doris, I merely wish to tell you that 
you can be heard in the hall,” and started 


LETTER FROM FOUNDRY 163 

to pop out again as fast as possible. In¬ 
deed, I had nearly got the door shut when 
I heard her speaking faintly: “Viola! 
Viola! ” 

I went in again, shut the door, and kept 
my hand on the handle, without a word. 
Doris was sitting up, and she looked as if 
she had been crying for hours. She didn’t 
say a word, but I didn’t think she wanted 
me to go away. After a long time I said 
quietly, “ Can I do anything to help you, 
Doris? ” 

“Honestly, I don’t know!” she gasped. 
“ But it’s got to a point where I’ve got to 
find out if somebody that’s honest and decent 
can’t do something! ” 

“ Do tell me what the matter is,” I urged, 
naturally quite at sea. But she began to 
cry again so hard she couldn’t speak. Then 
finally she pulled the following letter out 
of the pocket of her orange sweater, and 
thrust it at me without a word. First be¬ 
wildered, then aghast, I read and re-read 
these amazing lines: 


164 THfe CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

The Gartland Foundry 
To the Secretary, 

Daskam High School General Organization. 
Dear Sir: 

We are in receipt of your recent 
order for a bell to complete the Daskam 
memorial chimes. 

The price of a small bell to fulfill the 
requirements described in your letter will 
be just four hundred dollars ($400.00). 
We are making you a special price for an 
educational institution, and have this day 
given orders for mixing the metal, so we 
may promise delivery by New Year’s as 
desired. 

We are quite satisfied with your reference, 
Mr. Daniel Macklyn of the Macklyn House, 
Daskam, but since it is our regular custom 
to require a deposit on all orders, you will 
find inclosed preliminary bill for one hun¬ 
dred and fifty dollars ($150.00). The 
balance, two hundred and fifty dollars 
($250.00), can be paid on delivery. 

Assuring you of our appreciation of this 
favor, we are 

Faithfully yours, 

The Gartland Foundry. 
















CHAPTER XII 


A SORRY TALE 

“ Do you mean to say you’ve actually 
gone and ordered the bell! ” I gasped, abso¬ 
lutely dumfounded. 

“ I didn’t order it! ” cried Doris sharply. 
I looked at the letter again. “ Of course 
the general organization secretary did,” I 
assented, remembering that this was Fred 
Harley, a third-year boy who was forever 

trailing Archer; “ but-” 

“ I tell vou, Viola, I had nothing to do 
with giving that order,” sobbed Doris. 
“ But it’s my fault just the same! O dear! 
O dear! What shall I do? I’ll never get 
over this as long as I live! Oh, why was I 
such a dreadful, wicked little fool ? O dear! 
what shall I do? ” 

I couldn’t get another word out of her, 

though I tried my best, and I was nearly 

at my wits’ end when suddenly the door 

165 



166 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


burst open and in bounded Jocelyn in her 
customary breezy manner! Maybe she 
wasn’t staggered at the sight of Doris on 
the floor and me standing beside her! 

I signed to her to say nothing and go 
away, and held the letter so she didn’t 
notice it, but Doris looked up and saw me. 

“ Oh, let her see it, too! ” she cried des¬ 
perately. “ All the gift committee will have 
to know about it—everybody will, but I sup¬ 
pose the committee will first.” 

Then she buried her face in her arms and 
began to cry again. 

But Jocelyn would not take the letter just 
then. She said nothing, but she stepped to 
the wall where the handle of the storeroom 
skylight was, and let in some fresh air. 
Then she ran out into the hall and came back 
directly with a glass of water, which she 
made Doris drink. Then she took from a 
shelf the atomizer of fixative which she had 
come into the storeroom to get, as she had 
finished her charcoal study and wished to fix 
it, and whispered to me to wait for her, and 



A SORRY TALE 167 

not to leave the storeroom until she came 
back. 

In five minutes she came back in her out¬ 
door things, with the atomizer half-empty in 
one hand and Doris’s things in the other. 
By that time Doris was quieter. I then 
gave Jocelyn the letter and she read it, and 
was as shocked as I had been to learn that 
somebody had actually ordered the bell out¬ 
right before knowing whether or not it was 
within our means, or consulting the school 
any farther. 

Finally, it seemed as if somebody would 
have to speak, so I broke the silence. 

“ Doris,” I said, as gently as I could, 
“ as Archer Macklyn’s father is mentioned 
as a reference in this letter, Archer must 
have given his name. No one else would 
have done that. And you know he told the 
gift committee, when we first met, that his 
father had offered to let him use his name 
if we needed a reference. So Archer must 
be responsible for this order.” 

“ Well,” admitted Doris reluctantly, “ he 


168 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


did actually give it, but—it was really my 
fault.” 

“ How? ” 

She looked from me to Jocelyn with an 
air of bravado, and then suddenly hurled 
two sentences at us in one breath: 

“ If you want to hear a long story in four 
words, here it is: I smudged that paint¬ 
ing! " 

We were simply thunderstruck! We 
stared at her and then at each other in 
the wildest incredulity, but she went right 
on: 

“ Yes, it’s true! You know the damage 
was discovered one morning? Well, the 
afternoon before, late, I was in the new 
building, and I—I fell up against that end 
panel—the baseball picture—and it was 
damp, and I had on this long-haired Angora 
sweater and it smeared the paint! ” 

“ Smeared ”—the very word Mr. Pollock 
had used yesterday! 

I suppose,” I murmured, as Doris sud¬ 
denly seemed to have run down in her nar- 



A SORRY TALE 


169 


rative, “ that you just couldn’t bear to come 
out and say you had done it.” 

“ N-no, I couldn’t,” she confessed, but 
somehow her answer sounded incomplete. 
“ I was perfectly aghast that the damage 
cost so much-” 

Her voice trailed away. Neither Jocelyn 
nor I said anything. We knew it would 
have been most difficult for Doris to find a 
hundred dollars quickly. Her mother was 
a widow, just managing to put her and her 
little sister through school with the help of 
their elder brother, a young clerk in a bank. 
Yet we knew Doris was personally entirely 
straight in all her dealings. Again I 
couldn’t help wondering if she was telling 
all she knew, as she went on: 

“ As long as it was possible to fix the 
smudge I kept hoping the matter would be 
forgotten, and I hoped that some day, some¬ 
how, I might find a chance to make repara¬ 
tion. But the offense which I found had 
been given to the artist made me very un¬ 
easy, in spite of the fact that nobody could 



170 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 

discover who was responsible for the smudge. 
Still I hoped everything was safe, until 
Wilbur brought out that editorial of his in 
the Green-and-White. Then everybody 
started all over again to say the most dread¬ 
ful things about the person to blame, and 
I knew somebody must know what had hap¬ 
pened if Wilbur said so. It didn’t make 
any difference that he shouldn’t have said 
so that way,—the fact was that somebody 
did know. Then we had that gift-committee 
meeting. I thought a scheme to please 
everybody, such as the house-warming pro¬ 
posal, would quiet the fuss. But there was 
that conceited, sniffing Abigail Sims getting 
on my nerves, and there you were, Viola, 
with a real idea, and John Parker failed us 
and wouldn’t vote with us after all. And 
then everybody went just crazy over the 
idea of giving a bell, and got so mad when 
any one suggested it might be a risk, and 
that idiot Rand Potter made everybody 
laugh at us with his ridiculous riddle, so 
that finally we gave in and agreed to the 


A SORRY TALE 


171 


proposal. And then, right at that very in¬ 
stant almost, I found out- O dear! 

Dear! ” 

“ What did you find out, Doris? ” I asked 
quite firmly, for I saw it would be impos¬ 
sible to get her—or any one else, for quite 
obviously we were all in it—out of this 
scrape unless the whole story was told. 

Her eyes flashed with mortification as she 
replied: 

“ I found out who knew about the acci¬ 
dent to the painting! It was that prying 
little Abigail, though how she did, I give 
up! ” 

“For pity’s sake!” I ejaculated under 
my breath. “ How did you ever learn that, 
Doris? ” 

“ You remember I got a warning-card in 
chemistry? Well, I’ve had to attend certain 
oral quizzes in the elementary course, to re¬ 
view part of the work, and there was one 
of those the hour after the school meeting 
had voted for the bell. I got into class just 
at roll-call, and the only seat left was next 




172 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

to Abigail. Well, she was called on to name 
some commercial uses of turpentine, and of 
course she knew just dozens, and the last 
she mentioned was a solvent in making 
paint. And when she sat down beside me 
again, she sniffed just the way she did that 
day at the gift-committee meeting, and—I 
suddenly realized that then, days before, she 
had smelled the turpentine on my sweater 
which I had used to take the paint off with! 
It was the first day I had worn it since the 
accident. I did have to use a good deal to 
get all the spots off, I know, but I aired 
it so well! I’ll warrant nobody else noticed 
it—it took that fresh, nosey child at the other 
end of the table! ” 

Serious as the situation was, any one 
would have wanted to laugh at Abigail’s 
awful keenness and startling originality. I 
just managed not to, and I said: 

Doris, perhaps you are imagining 
things. You certainly have no proof that 
Abigail knew. If she had suspicions, she 
never said a word about them. \Yhatever 




A SORRY TALE 


173 


her shortcomings, she’s not mean nor under¬ 
handed. Nobody has connected you in any 
way with the accident.” 

“ That child never has suspicions, she’s the 
sort that always has facts,” declared Doris 
gloomily and with much truth. “ Perhaps 
she can hold her tongue. But anyway, I 
knew she knew, and I was absolutely afraid 
of what she might do if she chose to talk. 
The first year is the biggest class, as she 
is fond of pointing out to the rest of us, 
and they absolutely idolize her, and kids that 
age never have any sense. So I told Archer 
what I had learned. He didn’t like it a bit, 
but he said he had a plan to fix things for 
me. And the next day he told me he had 
simply gone ahead and ordered the bell! I 
was even more frightened then, but he said 
he had sent in the order so we’d surely have 
the bell by New Year’s and then everybody 
would be pleased and our crowd would get 
the credit. And he said there was no rea¬ 
son why we shouldn’t take a chance when the 
school was willing to pay a tax, if neces- 


174 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


sary, which would bring the fund available 
to two hundred and twenty-five dollars. 
Oh, it didn’t seem possible that a small bell 
would cost more than that! ” 

“ And then what? ” I asked, as she 
stopped again in despair. 

“ And then this letter came to Archer last 
Monday, before school. That’s why he 
didn’t come—the shock made him terribly 
sick,” said Doris with a groan. “ I never 
knew a thing about it until this noon, when 
he sent the letter over with a note, because 
he was afraid the whole thing might come 
out any time now, and he wanted me to be 
forewarned. He says he’ll be back to-mor¬ 
row. I just crawled up here and collapsed. 
That’s all.” 

She was indeed a forlorn spectacle, the 
forlornest I think I ever saw, and you 
would have had to be sorry for her, no mat¬ 
ter what you thought of the way she’d acted, 
for she was the person who was suffering 
the most as a result of her conduct. 

“Doris,” said Jocelyn, speaking for the 



A SORRY TALE 


175 


first time, vigorously but kindly, “ it 
wouldn’t be true not to say you are in a 
dreadful mess, for you are; but certainly 
you’ve done the right thing in owning up, 
and I hope all the rest of those to blame for 
that smudge will do the same.” 

Doris jumped! Jocelyn had made a ten- 
strike. 

“ No, you didn’t mention names, not even 
Archer’s before Viola said he must know of 
the order for the bell,” continued Jocelyn 
calmly. “ But Fred Harley wrote that 
order, surely at Archer’s direction. And at 
the gift-committee meeting your friends 
were all lined up to put that house-warming 
plan through. They were all supporting 
you, Doris, but nobody could have thought 
it was just devotion. It looked more like 
cooperation! ” 

“And, Doris,” I put in gently, “you 
know there was a good deal of fuss and feel¬ 
ing when Frances was getting up the sing¬ 
ing-school—she was so awfully eager for 
special credit. It was just a regular as- 


176 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

sembly program, and she was simply set on 
giving no one a show who wasn’t especially 
a friend of hers. I know it was a howl¬ 
ing success, but the way she ran it made 
talk.” 

“And, Doris,” said Jocelyn firmly, as 
Doris refused to speak, but sat looking at 
the floor, “ you said you went into the new 
building that afternoon; well, so did some 
other people. That new note-book they 
picked up is the kind used only in the his¬ 
tory and English courses, and you don’t take 
either of those subjects. And there were 
several trails of gravel along the hall, and 
they ran side by side in the same direction, 
for the night-watchman said so.” Still 
Doris did not say one word. “ I do not 
see,” finished Jocelyn, “ why you should take 
all the blame. The others should confess 
to their share of responsibility also.” 

“ They won’t, though,” whispered Doris 
finally. “ You’re right, of course—there 
were others. That was why I kept quiet. 
They wouldn’t agree to tell. I wanted to, 


A SORRY TALE 


177 


I tried to make them, but there were several 
who wouldn’t agree to do so, and the rest 
of us were afraid we might involve them if 
we said anything. Oh, I’ve been miserable, 
miserable, holding my tongue when I was 
principally to blame, though! Of course 
you’ve guessed that a crowd of us did go 
into the new building together that after¬ 
noon when no one was around.” 

“ Oh, why? ” I asked. 

“ Simply because I was a fool! We were 
all coming from the tennis-courts across the 
gravel running-track, and I proposed going 
in at the side door and walking through to 
the front door, just so we could feel smart 
because we had broken a rule. But when 
we got in, everybody started skylarking, and 
I was pushed against the wall on that pic¬ 
ture.” 

“ What are you going to do about it 
now? ” inquired Jocelyn sympathetically. 

“I don’t know!” Doris threatened to 
burst into tears again. “ Do help me, girls! 
You both would have to know very soon 


178 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

about the giving of the order for the bell, 
being on the gift committee, but—well, I 
told you about the accident as I did because 
—well, because I thought you’d know what 
to do.” 

“ I wonder what made you think that! ” 
ejaculated Jocelyn in real surprise. “ Not, 
of course, but that I should be very glad to 
do anything I could to help you.” 

“ And I,” I added eagerly, though I, too, 
felt very inexperienced in such complex 
difficulties. 

“ Well,” said Doris very quietly,—she had 
lost her bravado some time ago,—“ the truth 
is, I know I haven’t been acting well for a 
long time. I didn’t like rules. I wanted 
to be free of them, and I was. And it’s no 
good; it doesn’t work. All it does is bring 
you trouble, and that’s not what somebody 
else says,—it’s what I’ve found out myself. 
I found it out by being so bound to have 
my own way that I lost a mark, and worried 
my mother terribly, because she knew I 
couldn’t get a good position next year if I 




A SORRY TALE 


179 


should fail to graduate; and I found it out 
by spoiling our painting and then sneaking 
about it, and by leading my whole crowd of 
friends astray with the final result of involv¬ 
ing the entire school in this terrible mess— 
this order for the bell/’ 

“ But, Doris,” I interrupted, “ don’t be 
unfair to yourself. You never would have 

given that order-” 

“ Viola,” she interrupted me, “ I hope 
that’s true. But you cannot say how far 
you wouldn’t go if you’re tied up so tight 
to your own will that you won’t consider 
anybody else. Anyway, I am in large part 
responsible for this disaster, because I led 
other people on the wrong track. I think 
I am a miserable citizen of this community 
—I do truly. But I should really like to 
be a good one, and though at first I didn’t 
see how I could be, I remembered that it 
was you two girls who thought of getting 
the bell for the reason that it would play 
the highest note in the national anthem. I 
thought that was really a beautiful idea, 



180 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

though of course it probably occurred to you 
only in a practical way. I’m sure, anyhow, 
that it wouldn’t occur to any one who wasn’t 
pretty straight—who didn’t really love our 
national anthem because of understanding 
the ideals it stood for; and I thought maybe 
you could help me to go straight in the 
future, too.” 

We were both so touched we could hardly 
speak. What an admission that was from 
that girl, so much older and more prominent 
than either of us, so fascinating, and now 
so humiliated but so brave, nevertheless! 
But you couldn’t have been embarrassed— 
she was too sincere. 

“ Why,” said I finally, “ absolutely all I 
ever thought of in suggesting the bell was 
that its note—‘ free,’ you know—would com¬ 
plete the song. But, Doris, I certainly re¬ 
spect you highly for the way you talk, and 
I’ll stand by you.” 

“ So will I,” promised Jocelyn warmly, 
“ and since you’ve asked for help, there’s 
only one thing for you to do, Doris. Tell 



A SORRY TALE 


181 


Mr. Lane the main facts you’ve told us 
about the accident. Then since, as you say, 
the story of the order for the bell cannot be 
kept secret any longer, can’t you inform 
Archer to-morrow that you’re going to tell 
Mr. Lane your part of the story and urge 
him to tell his? I think he’ll follow your 
lead. He must respect your courage and 
honesty. I don’t believe he has been any 

happier than you were.” 

“ You see,” I added, as Doris hesitated 
just a second, “ in that way you need men¬ 
tion no names. Each of you can just give 
the facts you are responsible for, and cer¬ 
tainly if you do that, those friends of yours 
who wanted originally to tell about the ac¬ 
cident to the painting will probably be glad 
to follow suit.” 

So she consented to do this first thing in 
the morning, as it was now very late in the 
afternoon, and promised, in the meantime, 
to get rested, for she was all worn out. So 
she put on her things which Jocelyn had so 
thoughtfully brought, and, as the art teacher 


182 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 

had gone home after helping Jocelyn fix her 
drawing, we got Doris out of the store¬ 
room and then out of the building without 
attracting any attention, and took her home. 
And then, as we were both pretty tired our¬ 
selves, and had completely forgotten about 
our intended walk, we parted at my gate 
without further discussion of the startling 
revelations of the afternoon. But what was 
uppermost in both our minds was: What will 
the school do when they know about the 
order? What will they think of having had 
it given over their heads, and what will they 
do about the terrible expense they have been 
involved in? The whole thing would have 
to come out in a day or two. Everybody in 
our little community was concerned in it. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE BOMBSHELL BURSTS 

The whole of the next day I felt as if 
I were holding my breath, waiting for a 
bombshell to burst. But nothing happened. 
It was one of the quietest days of routine I 
ever remembered. Neither Jocelyn nor my¬ 
self saw Doris except at a distance, and 
while Archer appeared once more, very limp 
indeed, his languor was of course attributed 
to his having been sick. The hours went by 
so uneventfully, as a matter of fact, that by 
evening I was almost wondering if we had 
imagined the tragic scene and sorry tale 
which we had beheld and heard in the art- 
department storeroom. Yet of course it 
would have been impossible for Mr. Lane to 
burst right out with the news the minute 
Doris told it to him. No doubt he had 
to decide what action to take. Still, long 

as it seemed at the time, the school did not 

183 


184 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


really have to wait a great while for a sen¬ 
sation. 

The next morning Mr. Lane got up at 
the end of assembly, very grave indeed, so 
grave that he cast a sort of chill over us 
all before he began to speak. He told us 
that he wished the general organization to 
hold a special meeting the following day to 
consider a serious emergency. Then he 
made a speech that none of us, surely, will 
ever forget, and, though of course I didn’t 
take it down, I can write it almost word for 
word. 

“ I have always tried to encourage you 
all,” he began, “ to use your own best judg¬ 
ment, as far as possible, in dealing with 
matters which affect your whole school com¬ 
munity. I am now going to ask you to 
exert this as you never did before, for I 
have a most deplorable announcement to 
make. The bell you hoped to add to our 
chimes—a very suitable gift, I may say, 
given the necessary time to work for it—was 
ordered outright a few days ago! ” 


THE BOMBSHELL BUKSTS 185 


The school gave a gasp and looked wild¬ 
eyed, and were sure they hadn’t heard cor¬ 
rectly. 

“ Instead,” continued Mr. Lane, “ of 
sending for estimates of cost—as had been 
directed by your meeting—the order was 
sent outright, on the foolish and outrageous 
assumption that one might ‘ take a chance ’ 
that a small bell would not cost much. I 
have no time just now to comment on the 
conceit which prompted such an assumption, 
because I wish to emphasize the fact that 
this lawless act was a serious exceeding of 
the authority given to the leaders of the 
student body by the students who placed 
them in power as their representatives. If 
a bell had been found feasible as a gift, it 
would have been for the student organiza¬ 
tion to order it, not for individuals. They 
did so illegally, therefore. 

“ While they now see and regret their 
fault, they cannot escape its consequences. 
Neither can the rest of you. As always, 
disregard of common welfare by individuals 


186 THE CHIMES OF BASKAM HIGH 

involves the whole community to which they 
belong. Their excuses are that if they had 
not sent in the order, the bell might not have 
been ready for New Year’s, and you all 
would have been displeased. You may 
judge of the value of those excuses your¬ 
selves. As a result of the order, the foundry 
has already started casting the bell, and it 
must now be paid for. It will cost four 
hundred dollars.” 

This time nobody gasped. The breath 
was absolutely knocked out of all of us. In 
the midst of a perfectly appalling silence, 
Mr. Lane concluded: 

“You have already estimated that this 
sum is two hundred and fifty dollars more 
than you have for payment. And now I 
am glad to mention the one encouraging 
feature of this whole disaster. The startling 
result of this lawless order has finally 
shamed a student into confessing responsi¬ 
bility for the accident to the mural painting 
in the new building. I wish to commend 
this student, who thus not only regained 


THE BOMBSHELL BURSTS 187 

self-respect, but set an example of honesty 
which, you will be glad to hear, inspired 
others who learned of it. Eight students 
in all have informed me that they were also 
concerned in the accident. They will return 
to your treasury, through my office, the hun¬ 
dred dollars you spent for the damage they 
caused. 

“ Your problem, therefore, at the meeting 
to-morrow, will be to discuss any plans you 
would like to suggest to me for raising the 
balance necessary to complete payment for 
the bell—one hundred and fifty dollars. I 
have just two concluding points to make: 
first, that the history of school so far this 
year, in addition to the financial difficulties 
you are involved in now, has caused me to or¬ 
der the suspension of all plans for any year¬ 
book; second, I commend to you all private 
reflection on the far-reaching results of dis¬ 
obedience to rules, to laws, to the rights of 
others. You have yourselves seen such con¬ 
duct at first hand; you have witnessed its 
results; it has been part of your own com- 



188 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

munity life. Are you sure you have pro¬ 
tested against it effectively? And do you 
think it is so very attractive after all? ” 

We were all so numb we could hardly get 
up and march out of assembly, and all the 
teachers of morning classes must have had 
an easy time with discipline. Nobody moved 
a finger unless instructed specifically to do 
so. However, by recess the numbness had 
not only disappeared, but it had been re¬ 
placed by red-hot wrath, and if there was 
anything we were angrier about than hav¬ 
ing the order for the bell given over our 
heads, or being swamped financially, it was 
the idea of having no year-book that year. 
That was really a terrible blow. 

But it stunned us so that perhaps at first 
we didn’t really think about it as much as 
you might expect, for of course it came out 
that Archer had ordered the bell and that 
some of his friends had concurred in this 
order. Happily Doris’s name was not espe¬ 
cially mentioned in the matter of the bell, and 
nobody spoke of her at all in connection 


THE BOMBSHELL BURSTS 189 


with the smudged painting, for of course 
Mr. Lane had made his announcement very 
skillfully. The identity of the persons who 
had confessed was concealed entirely, and 
not only that, but the episode of the smudge 
was now submerged in more pressing 
troubles. It had been confessed to and 
reparation made for the money spent, so we 
no longer thought much about it. But we 
did denounce the whole G. O. administra¬ 
tion up and down, and right and left, until 
everybody in that school must have said 
something that would have been better left 
unsaid, and then we proceeded on a strange 
program of setting affairs to rights. 

If we had an excuse, and I don’t think 
we had, it was that our nerves were upset 
by disappointment and shock. Three of the 
girls cried so hard they couldn’t go to after¬ 
noon classes, and another one, who went, and 
was corrected by the French teacher for say¬ 
ing “ J’ai alle shut her mouth up tight and 
absolutely declined to go on reciting; and 
the whole elementary cooking-class went on 


190 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

a dish-washing strike for fifteen minutes, 
and Jocelyn and I performed a frightful 
deed which filled us with horror half an hour 
later, though at the time it seemed a most 
exalted expression of true friendship. And 
two of the boys who loved each other like 
brothers, as a rule, got into a fight on the 
playing-field, and a lot of the other boys 
mixed right in without knowing or caring 
what it was all about,—nobody knows yet, 

and there was a perfect epidemic of nose¬ 
bleeds. And another boy tasted some pink 
stuff out of a test-tube in the laboratory 
and flopped over on the floor, and had to 
be taken home in a taxi and stay in bed 
four days. He said he was lonely and 
didn’t know what else to do, and I think 
that was really what ailed all of us that ter¬ 
rible afternoon. 

Jocelyn and I finally felt so desperately 
unhappy that we decided we must do some¬ 
thing active at once, so we agreed to make 
up our walk we had missed two days before, 
although it was plainly going to rain di- 


THE BOMBSHELL BURSTS 191 

rectly. So as soon as school was over we 
walked up Daskam Ridge inland, and then 
struck off on the Shore Road, which skirts 
the harbor through the sand-dunes all the 
way around the basin to Stillwater, a little 
town right across the bay from Daskam. It 
was about three miles to Stillwater, and the 
gray sand with its gray-green grasses blow¬ 
ing in the rising gale, and the gray sky and 
the gray mist hovering over the mouth of the 
harbor and coming slowly in just suited our 
mood. 

But we had gone about a mile and a half, 
hardly speaking a word except once when 
Jocelyn said for the fifth time that day that 
she couldn’t bear to think about the year¬ 
book and so had dismissed it from her 
thoughts, when we at last realized how 
foolish we had been. Suddenly a large drop 
of rain splashed down on Jocelyn’s nose, 
there was a loud whoo-oo-oosh all through 
the air, and the storm was upon us. 

There were houses in sight, for the Shore 
Road is open all the way around the basin, 


192 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

but the nearest one was a long way ahead 
toward Stillwater, and we didn’t know the 
people who lived there, anyhow. Sand- 
dunes did not seem so picturesque as be¬ 
fore. They afforded no shelter whatever, 
and so we ignominiously turned around and 
ran back to Daskam! 

We ran as long as we could, and then we 
simply had to take to walking; then pres¬ 
ently we got our breath back and had to 
take to talking, both of us felt so humiliated. 
“ I never expected to feel like a criminal,” 
I began gloomily, turning up the collar of 
my sweater around my neck, only to find it 
soaking wet already. “Ugh!” 

This exclamation may have really been 
more on account of the wet collar than any¬ 
thing else, but Jocelyn took it as an ex¬ 
pression of repentance. 

“ I guess we did very wrong,” she mur¬ 
mured faintly, “ but I don’t just exactly 
know what to do.” 

My silence showed that I felt just the 
same way. The deed we had committed 


THE BOMBSHELL BUKSTS 193 

was of a sort, indeed, that I hardly think 
most people would know exactly how to 
repair, for it indeed demanded some sort of 
reparation. One of the girls in our class, 
who is a great friend of ours, had got D 
on her Latin prose paper. She was very 
sore, because she nearly always gets A, and 
we were both very mad, because we liked 
her so much, and we knew Mr. Hastings 

A 

could not have marked her properly. After 
we had looked over our papers in class, they 
were recollected in order to have the marks 
recorded in the teacher’s record-book. So 
Jocelyn and I got madder and madder 
about that D, and finally, without saying 
a word to anybody, we went to Mr. Hast¬ 
ings’s classroom during recess, because we 
knew he always kept his class-papers in 
piles on top of his large desk, and we took 
that paper out of the second-year pile and 
tore it up! 

As I suggested, we felt quite noble for 
two or three minutes afterwards, and then 
we wondered if we had had any right to 


194 THE CHIMES OF D ASK AM HIGH 

take it, and then we knew we hadn’t had, 
but what could we do about it? So we had 
done something wrong because we were 
angry at other people who had done some¬ 
thing wrong; and the whole school was in 
no end of difficulties about the bell which 
we had thought was going to be such a 
wonderful gift for the new building; and 
we were soaking wet, and not going to have 
any year-book! In desperation we both 
fetched the deepest possible breath, and 
started to run again! 

But we were much luckier than we de¬ 
served to be. We had come to the end of 
the Shore Road and had reached the Ridge 
again, and were panting down the street 
leading to the school, which we had to pass 
to get to our own street, when we heard our 
names called just behind us, at a little dis¬ 
tance above our heads. We turned around, 
and there stood Abigail Sims on the veranda 
of her home, which was just a couple of 
doors beyond the school, beckoning to 
us. We made a dash through the heaviest 


THE BOMBSHELL BURSTS 195 


downpour yet, and landed, dripping and 
mortified but pathetically grateful, before a 
large open fire in the living-room of her 
bungalow. 


CHAPTER XIV 


dragon’s eyes 

“ I’ll fix you up! ” was Abigail’s greet¬ 
ing. 

Well, so she did. She did not say we 
were wet; she did not ask us what we were 
doing out in the rain. She took our sweaters 
and shoes into the kitchen to dry, and gave 
us some of hers to wear in the meantime. 
We heard her telling the cook to make some 
cocoa, and the cook said: “ Yas’m, honey. 
Do yo’-all want some hot cookies, too? ” 
which showed that Abigail must be much 
esteemed in the home. 

It certainly was a nice home. The living- 
room was very pretty, with a great window 
that covered nearly half the front of the 
bungalow, commanding an extensive view 
up and down the street, and including such 
features as a whole new colony of charm¬ 
ing little homes being built just up the hill, 

196 


DRAGON’S EYES 


197 


and the fine new school building just across 
the way in the other direction. The fire 
made the room very homelike. All around 
the walls were many cases full of learned- 
looking books, which added to the intimate 
appearance, and a piano and piles of music. 
And in one corner was a small desk—Abi¬ 
gail’s, no doubt, for there was a shelf of 
girls’ stories over it, which certainly were 
her prizes, and near by was a radio set. 
The desk and the radio-cabinet were all 
strewn with tools—a hammer and a wrench 
and screw-drivers. 

Abigail came back promptly from the 
kitchen. 

“ We’ve interrupted you, I’m afraid,” 
said Jocelyn, glancing at the tools with 
polite regret. 

“ Yes, I was fixing my radio,” said Abi¬ 
gail truthfully, “ but it doesn’t matter; I’ll 
finish now, if you don’t mind. I want to 
tune in to WHIZ in a little while. They 
have a feature on the program called ‘ For 
Girls to Make,’ and this afternoon they’re 


198 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


going to give directions for making a cer¬ 
tain kind of necklace.” 

She picked up the hammer and began to 
pound something efficiently. 

“ How exciting that sounds! ” said I. “I 
mean about the necklace, of course. We 
wouldn’t interrupt such a thrilling occupa¬ 
tion for anything.” 

“It is nice, isn’t it? ” concurred our 
hostess, poking something with a screw¬ 
driver. “ I built this set myself, and it 
works awfully well. I meant to stay at 
school and study this afternoon, but after 
this morning I just had to come home and 
work and work and work! But I’m glad 
I did, because I saw you two rushing along 
in the rain, through that big window. 
You’d have been drowned before you could 
get home, and they’ll be gladder to see you 
there when you’re dryer.” 

As usual, there was much truth in Abi¬ 
gail’s observations, and Jocelyn, seeming to 
feel that this called for truth in return, re¬ 
marked with a faint and hesitant giggle that 


DKAGON’S EYES 


199 


we had gone on a walk to Stillwater to help 
make up our record for the hiking-club 
membership. 

“ I’d better get WHYE for you,” said 
Abigail. “ They’re giving weather fore¬ 
casts.” 

“Well,” declared Jocelyn defensively, 
“ we had to do something . You said so 
yourself! ” 

We all laughed, and at this point the 
cocoa and cookies put in an appearance and 
our tongues were loosed. 

“ Did you ever in all your life pass such 
a day as this? ” I sighed. “ What are we 
coming to, anyhow? ” 

“ We’re coming to what we deserve,” 
answered Abigail darkly and with appalling 
certainty. 

“ What? ” said I. 

“ What? ” said Jocelyn. 

“ Do you mean we deserve to be plunged 
into debt and to forfeit our year-book? ” I 
demanded, quite outraged at the idea. 

Abigail paused. “ Maybe I made too 


200 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


sweeping an assertion,” she said more cau¬ 
tiously. “ I know I do that sometimes. 
Perhaps it would be more exact to say that 
we have come to what we might expect.” 

Jocelyn looked puzzled at this cryptic 
utterance, but interested, nevertheless. 
“ You’ll have to explain that if you want 
me to understand it,” she said with an in¬ 
quiring smile. 

“ Well,” said Abigail instructively, “ we 
all agree that this has been a very awful 
day, all full of bad news that angered and 
upset everybody. We all felt we had to 
do something at once, to relieve our feel¬ 
ings. But we all did the wrong thing. I 
mean myself, too. Do you know what I 
did? I cut history. And I love it, and I 
was all prepared. I just decided I wouldn’t 
go! That’ll be something to attend to to¬ 
morrow. Yes, what each of us did was to 
blame anybody—everybody—but ourselves 
for that order for the bell, and for losing 
the year-book, and then take a revenge for 
it on ourselves! ” 




DRAGON’S EYES 201 

“ How could it be our fault that we lost 
the year-book? ” frowned Jocelyn. 

“ What have we done so far this year that 
we could put in it? ” countered Abigail. 

This was one of those questions that leaves 
you gasping. Jocelyn scowled at me as if 
I ought to answer it because she couldn’t, 
but I couldn’t either. However, I said 
rather feebly: 

“ Everybody thinks it’s pretty hard that 
there should always be a gap on the book¬ 
shelf in the library where the year-books all 
stand, just because a few people exceeded 
their rights-” 

“ I think that crowd are all frights, and 
they had no business at all to order the bell,” 
interrupted Abigail with a kind of large- 
hearted denunciation which somehow didn’t 
seem at all personal; “ but their giving the 
order is not the reason we can’t have the 
year-book. At least”—she made an ob¬ 
vious effort to be a little less assertive—“ I 
don’t think so.” 

“ What is the reason, then? ” I asked. 




202 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 


“ I think,” replied Abigail carefully, “ I 
think it’s because the rest of us have let them 
exceed their rights all along. We haven’t 
attended to our own business.” 

“ Our own business? ” repeated Jocelyn, 
puzzled, as I was, too. “ What do you 
mean? ” 

“ The life we all live together,” said Abi¬ 
gail promptly and simply. “ Isn’t that 
everybody’s own business? ” 

“ Oh, I see what you mean! ” I exclaimed. 
“ You’re talking about what Mr. Lane said 
this morning. You mean that crowd have 
disregarded the common welfare and so 
dragged the rest of us into the mess they 
made.” 

Abigail looked at me patiently and waited 
at least five seconds before replying ac¬ 
curately: 

“ I am talking about what he said, but 
what he said was that disregard of common 
welfare by individuals involves the whole 
community to which they belong. The rest 
of us are individuals too, aren’t we? And 


DRAGON’S EYES 


203 


we’ve let those people do practically what 
they wanted to, all year. I think he meant 
all of us had disregarded the common wel¬ 
fare. Don’t you remember, at the end of 
his speech, he asked us if we thought we 
had protested effectively against lawless¬ 
ness? ” 

“Well, haven’t we?” cried Jocelyn in¬ 
dignantly. 

“ No! Not effectively,” returned Abigail 
boldly. “ Nobody made any special fuss 
when Archer Macklyn violated the constitu¬ 
tion and didn’t call that fall meeting on 
time. Nearly all of us sympathized with the 
boys and girls that were put off teams be¬ 
cause they wouldn’t study-” 

“ Well, anyway, everybody in school was 
mortified to death about that smudge, I 
put in defensively. 

“Mortified? What good’s that?” de¬ 
manded Abigail ruthlessly. “ Wilbur was 
the only person who even made an attempt 
to unite public opinion against it because it 
was a scandal. And from the date of that 



204 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

smudge, that crowd in power has simply 
tried to get possession of the school and to 
decide how everything should be done, just 
to further their own ends, and we saw it 
and let them! Look at the way Frances 
Walton owned that singing-school—though 
you did hit her an awful clip, Viola! ” 

Abigail’s black eyes flashed one sharp 
glance at me. She was facing the window, 
and I saw what I had never noticed before, 
that the rim of iris around those black pupils 
was of the most liquid clearness, a very pale 
blue that was piercing and yet shining, and 
gave wonderful character to her plain, clear- 
cut face. I realized that she understood 
perfectly why I had insisted on taking the 
part of the singing-pupil,—that I had done 
it on her account. I said quickly: 

“ Rand, the Good Indian, also struck a 
blow for freedom! ” 

“ Lots of us have struck blows,’’ said Abi¬ 
gail, “ but we don’t seem able to make a 
charge together. Our leading set can, 
though. They stick together. That’s where 



DRAGON’S EYES 


205 


they’re strong and we’re weak. That’s how 
they get away with so much.” 

“ I don’t see that we’ve been so terrible,” 
said I, trying to make a last stand. “ Mr. 
Lane didn’t scold anybody but them, any¬ 
how!” 

“ If a bad child eats too much candy you 
cure his stomach-ache before you scold him 
at all,” said Abigail, the doctor’s daughter. 

Jocelyn, who had been listening carefully, 
broke into a ripple of laughter. “ I under¬ 
stand!” she nodded. “What you mean, 
Abigail, is this: Y r ou always have to clear 
away wreckage before you can rebuild. In 
other words, we’ll have to settle this mess 
about the bell satisfactorily before we can 
do anything else—before we should ever be 
fit to think about having a year-book, for 
instance. And if both the leaders and the 
led are to blame, why, I suppose both of 
them will have to settle the mess together! 

“ Something to think about there!” said 
Abigail with the first grin I had ever seen 

on her face. 



206 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

Then it was just time for the feature in 
which she was interested to be broadcast, 
and she tuned into WHIZ, explaining, as 
we waited a moment, that her mother, who, 
it seemed, had gone to the movies, had been 
so heart-brokenly lamenting the fact that 
Abigail had spent all her allowance on radio¬ 
parts instead of putting some of it into per¬ 
sonal ornamentation, as intended, that she 
felt obliged to demonstrate to her mother 
the practical and artistic value of radio by 
making a necklace, and she invited us to 
join her in making some for ourselves. 

This promised to be a delightful piece of 
work, and as soon as we had taken down the 
directions, Abigail led the way into her 
kitchen. It was well that the colored cook 
was so good-natured, or we might not have 
had a chance to carry them out, but as she 
just loved company and things to eat, and 
necklaces, too, she gave us all the salt and 
white cornmeal in the house, and we set to 
work. 

We heated the mixture gently with just 


DRAGON’S EYES 


207 


a little water, and it quickly turned into an 
interesting rubbery mass, from which we 
took lumps and rolled them in our palms 
into little balls, any size we liked. We 
colored part of the mixture with red ink, 
and the balls came out the sweetest pink 
shade in the world; and Abigail got all the 
blue inks in the house and experimented 
with them, making lovely blue balls of dif¬ 
ferent shades. Before the balls, or perhaps 
I should call them the beads, were dry, we 
punched holes through them so they could 
be strung. They were very heavy and ef¬ 
fective. We made dozens and dozens, each 
of us designing a necklace for herself. 
Abigail’s was quite elaborate, made of 
graduated beads of shaded blues. Jocelyn’s 
was all pink, while mine was blue and 
white. 

We had laid them on lids of cardboard 
boxes to dry, and were gazing at them 
proudly in the living-room again when 
Abigail’s mother arrived home from the 
theatre. Oh, she was beautiful! I had 


208 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

never seen her before, and I was simply 
dazzled. She honestly didn’t look more 
than nineteen, and was just like a princess in 
a fairy-story, with golden hair that must 
have been yards long, and blue eyes and rosy 
cheeks. Abigail’s mother! 

They kissed each other as if they had been 
separated a month, and Mrs. Sims spoke 
very kindly to Jocelyn and me; then, when 
she saw the beads, her eyes sparkled in the 
prettiest way. You could see she just loved 
fanciness and frills. Abigail explained how 
she had got the directions over the radio. 

“ How clever of you, darling! ” said Mrs. 
Sims, really awestruck. “ You know, girls, 
I never could possibly think of such things. 
And Abigail doesn’t care for ornaments at 
all, the way most girls do, yet, when she 
wants to, she can make them so nicely! ” 

“ Brains ! 33 said Jocelyn. 

“ That’s it,” said Mrs. Sims seriously. 

“ Stuff! ” said Abigail to Jocelyn. 

“ I think you knew I’d like it, Abigail,” 
said Mrs. Sims, just like a sweet child. 


DRAGON’S EYES 209 

“ Well, don’t you? ” Abigail rebuked her. 
But she patted her, too! 

Then Doctor Sims came in from his round 
of calls, and, while he was extremely nice, 
I think Jocelyn and I got another shock 
when we realized he was Abigail’s father, 
the more so because he was dark, like her, 
and keen-looking, though not so much so 
as she was. But he had the most beautiful, 
smooth manners, and spoke very gently and 
politely. He would make you feel well at 
once if you even looked at him when you 
were sick, and he was just the kind of per¬ 
son you would want to invite to a party, to 
help make it go off. Now Abigail, while 
indeed a stimulating companion, gave you 
one jolt after another. You never knew 
what she was going to do next, except that 
it would be something admirable but per¬ 
haps discouraging to those less gifted with 
observation and judgment. 

But Abigail and her father were plainly 
most congenial. He admired the necklaces 
greatly, and evidently considered her very 


210 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


ingenious, and was much pleased when Joce¬ 
lyn said she thought Abigail’s necklace was 
the most artistic because the shaded blues 
matched her eyes as they appeared in dif¬ 
ferent lights. This was quite true, though 
Abigail convincingly denied following any 
such deliberately vain plan in designing the 
beads. 

“ What did they call the beads when they 
gave you the directions, darling? ” asked her 
mother. “ They’re so pretty, they ought to 
have a nice name.” 

“ Cornmeal-and-salt beads, they called 
them,” answered Abigail, just to tease, for 
really they hadn’t called them even that. 
They had simply announced: “Directions 
for making a novelty necklace.” 

Mrs. Sims looked quite shocked. The 
doctor laughed. Then suddenly an idea 
came to me. It was nearly time to go, and 
Abigail had certainly been very nice to 
Jocelyn and me. We were dry and well- 
fed, we had necklaces, we had had a most 
thought-provoking conversation, and, now 


DKAGON’S EYES 


211 


that the rain was slackening, we should have 
a chance to get home between showers. “ I 
know a name for them! ” I cried on the spur 
of the minute. “ At least, I think so. Oh, 
have you an encyclopedia? Could I have 
the DR A volume a second, just to make sure 
of something? ” 

Doctor Sims instantly produced the vol¬ 
ume from among his learned books, and 
in a twinkling I had " Dragon” and found 
that the recollection which had popped into 
my brain out of some deep-sunken story, no 
doubt, which I had heard maybe years ago, 
was correct. 

“ Now, listen! ” said I. “ I propose that 
we name the beads in honor of—of Abigail’s 
— necklace!” I looked at her hard and 
mysteriously. 44 I’ll tell you why, first. 
Then I’ll tell you the name. And don’t in¬ 
terrupt me until I’ve finished, Abigail! ” 

“ Excellent advice, that!” laughed her 

father. 

“ It’s a big compliment,” I added, “ and 
you don’t need to return it this time. 


212 THE CHIMES OF D ASK AM HIGH 


“ All right, I won’t interrupt,” promised 
Abigail. 

“ 4 The word “ dragon ” means sharp- 
sighted, ” I read from the encyclopedia. 
“ 4 There were believed to be in ancient times 
keen-eyed beings of striking form who were 
called by this name, who were able to ob¬ 
serve the deep secrets of earth and explain 
them in parables to mankind, to whom these 
beings are shown, in many mythologies, to 
have been beneficently inclined.’ ” 

I looked up at Abigail. If the corners of 
her mouth hadn’t been just slightly lifted, 
she would have looked more like a sphinx 
than ever. 44 That explains why we can 
name the beads in honor of your—necklace,” 
said I, “ and the name that I suggest for 
them is 4 Dragon’s Eyes! ’ ” 

And even Abigail was pleased to death! 


CHAPTER XV 


JOCELYN COMES INTO HER OWN 

We had to scurry home and had little 
chance to talk, but the next morning, just 
as I was stepping to the telephone to call 
Jocelyn and ask her to wait for me, so I 
could stop for her on my way to school, for 
I wanted to talk, the bell rang, and it was 
herself, asking me to wait for her so she 
could stop. So within five minutes we were 
walking up the Ridge together. 

“ We’ll have an exciting meeting this 
afternoon,” she predicted. 

“ I’ll not disagree with you there,” I re¬ 
turned. “ I guess we’ll have an exciting 
morning, too, if everybody is as mad as they 
all were yesterday.” 

“ You can’t stay as mad as that,” said 
Jocelyn. “ I’m not nearly so mad as I was, 
are you, Vi? ” 

“ Not so red-hot mad,” I explained. 

213 


214 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

“ But I feel chilly-mad, and awfully bad, 
and rather guilty, and I wish somebody 
would tell me what to do.” 

“ I’ve been feeling like that, too. Well, 
we’re no different from other people, so I 
guess that must be the way the whole school 
is feeling. But oh, Viola, I’ve been think¬ 
ing so hard, for days and days and days, 
and especially since yesterday afternoon.” 

“ Abigail certainly said a lot of true 
things, even if she is very young, and only 
in the first year.” 

“She has dragon’s eyes!” said Jocelyn 
mischievously. “ I saw what you meant 
when you named the beads, Viola. Abigail’s 
awfully keen, and really very kind and 
friendly, too.” 

“ The one thing I don’t like about her,” 

said I, “ is that she’s so dreadfully aggres- 
• 

sive. 

She knows that,” said Jocelyn gently. 
“ She tried to check it yesterday, too. It’s 

her nature to be sure of herself, she’s so 
bright.” 


INTO HER OWN 


215 


“ Yes, she’s really intellectual—something 
like her father, in mind, but not in disposi¬ 
tion, and not a bit like her mother. Wasn’t 
her mother lovely! ” 

“ Absolutely! And how fond those three 
very different people are of each other!” 
Jocelyn smiled and shook her head thought¬ 
fully. 

“ Honestly,” said I confidentially, “ I 
wondered how they got along so splendidly.” 

“ I think,” said Jocelyn very earnestly, 
“ it’s because they all love a thing in com¬ 
mon, and that’s their home. Don’t you re¬ 
member how Abigail said so naturally, ‘ The 
life we live together—isn’t that everybody’s 
business? ’ She knows how to harmonize 
with people entirely different from herself, 
and I believe, Viola, that that’s how she was 
able to put her finger right on the weak spot 
of our school life.” 

“ What is it? ” I asked, quite amazed at 
Jocelyn’s reflective tone. 

“ We’re all out of tune,” she said quietly. 
“ We can’t strike together and make har- 



216 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


mony. We’re all off the pitch, and we 
jangle horribly.” 

I simply stared at her. It wasn’t a bit 
like Jocelyn to speak figuratively, though of 
course I realized at once that her mind was 
harking back to our visit to the old belfry, 
when we learned about the principles of 
harmony in chimes. But she didn’t notice 
me at all, and didn’t observe my surprise. 
She went right on talking. 

“You know, there isn’t any reason in the 
whole wide world why we can’t be har¬ 
monious. No; there are, in fact, two per¬ 
fectly good reasons why we can! ” 

“ What are they? ” I inquired politely. I 
couldn’t think of any. 

“ The first is, that it’s, in us to be har¬ 
monious if we wish! Don’t you remember 
the fortune-book? Of course each of us 
liked to believe that his or her fortune was 
terribly personal, but, really, all of them 
urged us to do the same thing to succeed, 
that is, to develop our best qualities un¬ 
selfishly, and to try to strengthen our poorer 


INTO HER OWN 


217 


ones. If we all did that, we’d never jangle! 
And the second reason is—we’ve been har¬ 
monious! Yes, this year! I tell you we 
have, at least in a small way, Viola. Have 
you forgotten what happened when enough 
people finally got together and put the 
singing-school through? Why, such an as¬ 
sembly program was never heard of before! 
Now, why can’t we do something like that 
again { 

I didn’t say another word. Jocelyn 
seemed almost inspired, to me. I felt that 
she was getting all ready to do something 
wonderful, but what it was, I had no idea. 
But there was something about her that 
made me want to trust her with whatever 
might be decided about the disaster which 
would be discussed at our meeting that 
afternoon. And all through that day, which 
seemed very long, for a cold, sulky, revenge¬ 
ful sort of feeling hung over the school, I 
comforted myself with the belief that Joce¬ 
lyn might be able to show us a way out 
of our difficulties. And it wasn t only faith, 



218 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

either, for she suggested, and I agreed with 
her, that the first thing we two ought to 
do was to see Mr. Hastings about that Latin 
prose paper we had so naughtily filched 
from his desk. So we went to him, and, 
humiliating as it was to do so, we explained 
every detail to him, and told him how dif¬ 
ferent taking it for the sake of friendship 
had at first made the deed appear. All he 
said was that he was much surprised, and 
sincerely trusted that we would never do 
such a thing again, and we said we trusted 
the same, and we certainly never would. 

Then personally we felt much better, but 
we couldn’t see that the temper of the school 
improved much all day, and at the hour of 
the meeting we gathered with a noise like 
a buzz-saw and a rumble of thunder in the 
distance. John Parker had to preside, for 
Archer did not attend the meeting, as Mr. 
Lane would not let him, telling him that 
he had forfeited public confidence. 

Poor John! He wasn’t very bright or 
quick naturally, but he had hitherto been 


INTO HER OWN 


219 


rather popular because he was extremely 
good-natured. But having been a regular 
member of the leading set didn’t increase 
his popularity at that meeting, though we 
all knew he at least had not been involved 
in the accident to the painting, which had 
started all the trouble, since he was being 
coached late every afternoon to take college- 
entrance examinations in February. He 
was conscientious but scared, and hadn’t an 
idea in the world what to do with such a 
turbulent throng as that which faced him. 
Also, there was a most embarrassing finan¬ 
cial problem to be discussed, namely, the 
best way to secure instantly, before Christ¬ 
mas, and with a treasury like a vacuum 
to fall back on, one hundred and fifty 
dollars. 

At least nobody suggested getting up 
some merry entertainment, but some one of 
course proposed having a tax, as had been 
thought of when the bell was first suggested 

as a gift. 

“ How much apiece would we have to con- 


220 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

tribute to raise a tax of one hundred and 
fifty dollars? ” asked some one. 

Poor John was obliged to reply, “ Sixty 
cents! ” 

There was a loud groan, and then a howl 
of derision. Nobody could get the floor, for 
from all over the room came objections that 
such a sum was excessive, and nobody would 
pay it if levied. Finally some one suggested 
paying a smaller tax and raising the balance 
of the hundred and fifty dollars some other 
way, but we were now all irrevocably op¬ 
posed to taxation in any form! Then dis¬ 
cussion began to wander, and questions were 
hurled at John. The meeting wanted in¬ 
formation. Why had the gift committee 
delayed action so long on the gift and then 
finally got us into such trouble over it? 
Poor John! He was on the committee, and 
yet not responsible at all for the trouble, 
though unwilling to say anything that would 
involve his friends who were concerned, even 
though unofficially, as far as the committee 
went. People wanted to know why the 


INTO HER OWN 


221 


order had been put through illegally, why 
it had been assumed that the cost would be 
comparatively small, and why, when they 
themselves had had no part in the disaster, 
they should be called on to repair it. 

John was very patient, and tried his best 
to satisfy all questioners, but the truth was 
the meeting was in a temper where it was 
determined not to be satisfied. After a 
while he did succeed in bringing us around 
again to the purpose of the meeting, namely, 
to decide what concrete action we should 
take to raise the money for the bell, but 
there apparently wasn’t one idea among two 
hundred and fifty minds. The audience got 
very restless, and finally some one suggested 
that we should put the matter into the hands 
of a committee. 

“No more committees! We’ve had 
enough of committees! ” came from all over 
the room; and there we were, back again 
where we had started! It certainly was 
most discouraging. 

Then Wilbur Edson, who had said noth- 


222 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

ing at all so far, got up and addressed the 
chair formally, and got the floor at once. 
Everybody respected Wilbur and was ready 
to listen to him, and he doubtless knew that, 
for he spoke very clearly and carefully. 
He said: 

“ Mr. Chairman, it seems to me that we 
all are acting in a cowardly way in the face 
of an emergency. We are doing nothing 
whatever to meet it bravely. We’re all in¬ 
volved in it, and we ought to get together 
to settle it, no matter what has happened, 
for it is all over now. We haven’t done one 
thing since Mr. Lane’s announcement yes¬ 
terday morning except try to get even in 
some way with the person or persons respon¬ 
sible for our troubles, and we’re so dumb 
that we haven’t even succeeded in doing 
that. For the love of Pete, do let us try 
to think of something constructive to do to 
raise this money. We’re all perfectly sick 
of this mess, and the sooner it’s done with 
the sooner we can go ahead to some¬ 
thing better, which I am sure is the real 


INTO HER OWN 223 

desire of every loyal member of our com¬ 
munity.” 

Wilbur’s earnestness and good sense had 
a lot of effect. He was rather editorial in 
spots, too, which gave weight to his remarks. 
When he sat down there was a very agree¬ 
able silence over the meeting, as if many 
present felt they would do well to put a 
check on their emotions. There were also 
some thoughtful puckers on brows. I think 
by that time many would have been glad to 
make some practical suggestion had they 
been able to think of one, but unquestion¬ 
ably the problem was very difficult. 

But Frances Walton spoke up and said 
that whatever activity we undertook ought 
to include everybody, so we could all con¬ 
tribute something to the cause, because, after 
all, it was our present to the new school, 
and we took an interest in it, and wanted 
it to be as successful as possible. And she 
said this in a very quiet and humble but 
sincere way which made a deep impression, 
for hitherto Frances and her friends cer- 


224 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

tainly never had cared much who was in¬ 
terested in anything, or whether or not it 
was successful, either, unless they were di¬ 
rectly interested, and she was not the leader 
in that set, but one of the followers. And 
then Larry Hill, the treasurer, got up and 
said that Mr. Lane had spoken to him per¬ 
sonally, and said that if any really practical 
scheme to raise the fund could be devised 
by the students, he would back it heartily, 
and would much prefer it to any plan of 
his own which he would have to direct us 
in carrying out. And finally Abigail got 
the floor and said briefly, and for once with¬ 
out sharpness: 

“We ought to remember, too, that this 
money doesn’t all need to be in hand until 
New Year’s. We have several weeks in 
which to raise it.” 

“ Those are all helpful points,” remarked 
John, with evident relief that a much bet¬ 
ter spirit was beginning to prevail in the 

meeting. “ Now, where is some concrete 
plan? ” 


INTO HER OWN 


225 


“Here!” cried Jocelyn confidently, 
springing to her feet. 

She had not spoken since we came into 
the meeting. Yet instinctively everybody 
present turned to her as a leader, for that 
was what she had become! At that moment, 
in that emergency, after days and days of 
difficulty and meditation and taking council 
with herself, Jocelyn’s natural gift of leader¬ 
ship burst into flower—I saw it myself! 
But she didn’t know it at all. She was 
entirely without self-consciousness, though 
at that moment she looked almost inspired. 
Breezy and courageous she always was, and 
now she was also intelligent, calm, and fear¬ 
less. 

“ I know how to undo this tangle we’re 
all in! ” she declared in that same confident 
tone. “We must all work— work! —to¬ 
gether to unsnarl it. Do you remember 
what all the trades did last year when we 
were rebuilding Daskam Hospital? Each 
man did a day’s work and gave a day’s 
pay toward the new walls. I move that we 


226 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

each take a leaf from this experience, and 
find a piece of work to do some Saturday 
soon, and contribute what we get for it to 
buy our beautiful bell—for it’s just as 
beautiful as ever, isn’t it, that bell which 
will make our chimes play ‘ The Star- 
Spangled Banner’? And I know that if 
we can do this we’ll not only buy our bell— 
we’ll rebuild the broken walls of our happi¬ 
ness! ” 

She sat down in a riot of applause. I 
don’t believe the rest of us realized what we 
were doing any more than she had been 
conscious of the hope she had brought us, 
for she had made just the right appeal. 
The whole school still wanted the bell for 
its gift, and saw now that the one way to 
happiness for us was a common loyalty to 
our common good. We were more than 
glad to work for the bell when we saw that 
our united effort could bring back our old 
harmony. We clapped and cheered and 
stamped and shrieked with relief and de¬ 
light, and as the noise finally began to die 


INTO HER OWN 227 

down, Rand Potter stood up on a chair and 
shouted: 

“ We’ll be Saturday’s children and work 
for our giving! ” 

And forthwith this was adopted as our 
slogan! And within ten minutes Mr. Lane 
had designated Saturday week as the great 
day! 


CHAPTER XVI 


RED-LETTER SATURDAY 

So forthwith ensued a wild but inspiring 
scramble to secure paying occupations for 
Saturday. Of course we saw that probably 
few of us could work all day, but it was 
agreed that all pieces of work secured for 
that red-letter day were to be equally 
honored, and so were all payments of what¬ 
ever size. The point was that each of us 
was doing his or her best in a common 
cause. We also agreed not to take any 
work away from regular workers, or to take 
pay for anything we usually did at home. 
And then, despite these restrictions and the 
short notice and the merry tendency of our 
teachers to tease us mildly about the de¬ 
lightful novelty of seeing students working, 
we set about placing ourselves with con¬ 
siderable ingenuity, if I do say so. 

The younger students mostly preferred to 

228 


RED-LETTER SATURDAY 229 

work at home, so lots of them got permis¬ 
sion to do all the odd jobs which are usually 
left either until spring house-cleaning or for 
the odd-job man if he ever proves willing to 
oblige. Dozens and dozens of chairs and 
tables must have been mended and polished, 
and innumerable gates painted, and trunks 
repaired, by able amateurs in Daskam that 
day. The older boys found many exciting 
occupations, such as Wilbur’s, for instance. 
Seeing a sign on the city museum, 4 Strong 
Boy Wanted to Polish Floors,” he offered 
his services, and, being heavy and rhyth¬ 
mical rather than swift in his motions, he did 
quite a brilliant job, and not only earned two 
dollars, but was invited to return regularly 
every Saturday! Band delivered orders for 
a butcher all day, and also collected material 
for a most thrilling exposition for English 
class, which described what all the kitchens 
in Daskam looked like; and John Parker 
ushered at a special matinee, where his con¬ 
scientious courtesy stood him in good stead. 
A lot of the older girls helped with extra 


230 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


work in various homes, for many people, 
learning of our enterprise, begged for the 
services of those who could do a family 
mending or amuse children, and such things 
many girls did gladly and well. Others 
with special gifts used them. One girl made 
and sold lovely hat-pins and pendants of 
sealing-wax, another designed place-cards 
for a luncheon, and Doris Hart, who had 
been far down in the dumps for days over 
her poor record, found great encourage¬ 
ment in an opportunity Mr. Lane himself 
got for her. His cousin owned the prettiest 
candy-store in Daskam, called by just the 
right name for it, “ Fairyland,” and he 
asked for several extra girls to help handle 
his regular Saturday-afternoon rush. So 
Doris was one of those who responded, and 
her politeness and charm attracted custom 
and made her a great success there. And 
I cannot conclude this catalogue of our 
achievements without adding those of 
Archer and of Abigail. 

Archer, naturally humiliated by the re- 


BED LETTER SATURDAY 231 

suits of his administration of school affairs, 
had had to resign from the office of presi¬ 
dent. He became quite unpopular, to tell 
the truth, for the episode of the order for 
the bell was held generally to be quite un¬ 
pardonable. Nobody knew, you see, what 
Jocelyn and I couldn’t tell, how he had 
primarily sent in that order on an impulse 
to shield Doris. This showed that he had 
some good instinct, however misdirected it 
had been. So when everybody else was joy¬ 
fully scrambling for a job, he hadn’t spirit 
enough left to dare ask for anything. But 
Jocelyn privately got her father, who owns 
a wholesale grocery, to hire Archer to drive 
the extra truck Saturday’s many orders 
usually require. He was a skillful and ex¬ 
perienced chauffeur and was pathetically 
delighted to be wanted to do anything at all. 
And “ that there new green boy,” as he was 
called from morn to dewy eve that day in 
and out of Mr. Gay’s shipping-office, cer¬ 
tainly had to “ step lively ” and watch his 
step ” and load and deliver exactly as per 


232 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


schedule and no other way! If Archer 
needed any further convincing on the de¬ 
sirability of following rules, I think he 
must have got it before the head shipping- 
clerk had finished with him. 

But though perhaps his work was a new 
experience for him, our steadfast little Abi¬ 
gail merely demonstrated, as customary 
with her, the triumph of mind over mat¬ 
ter. She took cold, and her father wouldn’t 
let her work as she had intended to, caddy¬ 
ing at a golf tournament at the country 
club. But nothing daunted, she explored 
his waiting-room, where patients often left 
newspapers, and she found one of these 
which had a weekly puzzle column with 
money prizes for original contributions. 
Being original presented no difficulties to 
Abigail, with a cold or without one. She 
forthwith invented the most astonishing 
cross-word puzzle you ever heard of, and 
entered it in the competition. It was the 
sort that baffles you completely and yet 
won’t let go of you. You have to work it 


RED-LETTER SATURDAY 233 

out. As yet I have not succeeded in solv¬ 
ing it, or I would put it in here, but even 
if I never get it I know I shall go on try¬ 
ing! So you won’t be surprised to learn 
that she won first prize, which was three 
dollars, and the largest contribution made 
toward the bell. 

As for Jocelyn and myself, we were still 
undecided as to what work we would under¬ 
take, and, in fact, were debating the ques¬ 
tion at my house one evening, when the tele¬ 
phone rang. It turned out to be a message 
from Mr. Macklyn, Archer’s father, for me. 
He is quite a friend of my father’s, you see, 
and he knew that Jocelyn and I would 
probably like to work together if we could. 
So he offered us posts as “ water-girls ” in 
his hotel dining-room during the serving of 
luncheon that very Saturday! It promised 
to be work that would compare favorably 
with anybody’s as far as adventure and ex¬ 
citement and novelty went, for the Macklyn 
House is a charming hotel at any time, but 
on this special Saturday, it seemed, a one- 


234 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


day conference of all the social workers in 
our county was to be held there. The mem¬ 
bers of the conference were to meet both in 
the morning and in the afternoon, and have 
luncheon together. So, Mr. Macklyn said, 
there would be several extra tables in the 
dining-room, and he would have to get 
extra help at noon. We accepted his most 
thoughtful offer with delight, for not only 
would it be very thrilling to see all the mem¬ 
bers of the conference, but we had known 
several older girls who had made part of 
their college expenses working in various 
ways at the Macklyn House, and they all 
had liked it ever so much. 

We were to go on duty at half-past eleven 
and finish at two, and to receive a dollar 
apiece for our work. So eleven o’clock 
found us putting on the water-girl’s uni¬ 
form, blue-and-yellow plaid gingham with 
blue-and-yellow ribbons at the neck, and a 
bibbed apron, as pretty as anything you ever 
saw. Then we went into the handsome 
dining-room, with its rich blue walls and 


RED-LETTER SATURDAY 235 

great plate-glass windows, and dazzling 
linen and glittering silver and glass, and one 
of the regular water-girls kindly showed us 
our duties. Each of us had a section of 
tables. When guests sat down we were to 
take their glasses and fill them at a silver 
faucet at one side of the room and then 
carry them back, together with one of the 
pats of butter which were in a great bowl 
on a table close by, with butter-plates, trays, 
and wicker tumbler-carriers, to use if we 
had to serve several people at once. “ And 
whatever you do, don’t ever hurry!” con¬ 
cluded our instructress impressively, and I 
grinned at Jocelyn, but next second the 
laugh was turned on me, for the other water- 
girl added: “ And don’t think about your¬ 
selves. Iveep watching the other people, so 
you can refill their glasses.” Then, with the 
other girls, we lined up in front of our 
silver faucet, which was our station when 
not actively engaged, and the doors were 
opened. 

I dare say the social workers had trans- 


236 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

acted a great deal of business that morning, 
and it had made them very hungry, for 
they all came in to luncheon promptly, so 
almost immediately we water-girls found 
ourselves extremely busy. Very soon there 
was a large crowd in the dining-room, in¬ 
creased by regular guests and business peo¬ 
ple coming in to luncheon, and it was quite 
a revelation how much water they all drank. 
I am sure I walked miles and miles in two 
hours and a half. A great many people 
would even pick up the glass the minute I 
set it down, and have it drunk dry before 
I got back to my post! However, we en¬ 
joyed ourselves greatly after the first slight 
nervousness wore off, and were both very 
proud to think we were doing some real 
worth-while work and earning regular pay 
to give toward our bell. 

Mr. Macklyn came in personally to see if 
his guests were being properly attended to, 
and he spoke to Jocelyn and me very kindly, 
and told us quietly who some of the workers 
were, and as a number of them were quite 


RED-LETTER SATURDAY 


237 


famous, like a woman doctor who had quite 
lately saved many orphans in the Near East, 
and a Red Cross man who had won the 
Distinguished Service Cross in France, that 
made our work more interesting than ever, 
and it gave us great pleasure to serve these 
splendid people, too. 

About one o’clock, when we were both 
free for a moment and standing at our post 
not far from the door, a tall young girl came 
into the dining-room, and as she was 
alone and wore no hat it was evident 
that she was living in the hotel. She went 
straight to a small table in Jocelyn’s sec¬ 
tion, and Jocelyn, going over with her glass 
of water, was detained there a moment be¬ 
cause the girl spoke to her and asked her 
if she was one of the high-school students 
working that day to buy their gift. But as 
soon as she had spoken they both smiled, 
because she was the same girl, Jocelyn told 
me when she returned, that had sat in front 
of her during our singing-school that we 
gave at the Friday assembly. She was 


238 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


much thrilled to learn that we were giving a 
bell, and said she hoped she would hear it 
ring before she left Daskam. And Jocelyn 
told her we were to have it by New Year’s, 
and then had to go on with her work. Joce¬ 
lyn said she was a very sweet girl. 

I suppose we had worked half an hour 
longer, feeling sure that our job was cer¬ 
tainly as good as any undertaken by any 
Daskam student that day, when the event 
occurred which, in our estimation, at least, 
made it superior to all of them. 

A bell-boy came into the dining-room and 
started to page some one. We were both 
busy, not far away from each other, on the 
opposite side of the room from that down 
which the boy had started, so at first we 
could not hear him distinctly and paid no 
attention. But gradually he came nearer, 
and at last we heard him calling clearly: 

“ Miss Hope Seaborne! Miss Hope Sea¬ 
borne! " 

In my hand was one of the tumbler- 
carriers with six full glasses on it, and I 


RED-LETTER SATURDAY 


239 


just managed not to drop them all on the 
floor. I am afraid I did glance at Joce¬ 
lyn. She kept right on distributing butter 
in correct deliberate style, but her glance 
crossed mine. The boy had come to a stop 
at the little table in her section, and I heard 
him say, “ Telephone.” The next instant 
the tall young girl was preceding him out of 
the dining-room! 

So she was Hope Seaborne of “ Y r our 
Birthday Fortune ” and the scarlet-card¬ 
board rebus book-mark! 

Jocelyn and I could hardly do our work, 
waiting breathlessly for her return. But 
she didn’t come back. 

We began to think nobody was ever go¬ 
ing to finish eating. Our one hope was that 
we might be able to see her again and have 
a chance to tell her about her book and 
book-mark. We waited in vain. And 
then, about fifteen minutes after she had 
left the room, she suddenly flashed like a 
streak of lightning past the desk outside, in 
her outdoor things, carrying a black leather 


240 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 

case. She bounded out of the front door 
and disappeared! 

We had found her—and lost her. It 
seemed worse than not finding her at all! 



CHAPTER XVII 


WE NAME OUR BELL 

“ J ocelyn,” said I with sad conviction, 
as we quitted the Macklyn House ourselves 
a little late, our dollar bills safe in our 
purses, “ I believe we must be fated never 
to get into touch with Hope Seaborne! ” 

“ Pshaw, I don’t believe in fate! ” denied 
Jocelyn stoutly, though at least as disap¬ 
pointed as I was. “ What I believe in, 
Viola, is fortune; that is, I believe in the 
kind of fortune that Hope’s book predicts 
for you. I mean, it was predicted for all 
of us that if we used our brains and ability 
as best we could, we’d all win some kind of 
success. And you see that at least you and 
I have finally succeeded in finding Hope, 
though we never could exactly have expected 
to. And she actually spoke to me.” 

I was obliged to admit that this was true. 

“ And,” continued Jocelyn, “ I told you 

241 


242 THE CHIMES OF HASIvAM HIGH 


she said she hoped to hear the bell ring be¬ 
fore she left Daskam, and I don’t believe 
she has left it permanently now, for, Viola, 
she dashed out with just one small bag. 
She must be here with some one, of course. 
I believe she just got an invitation by tele¬ 
phone to go somewhere, and that she’ll be 
back again, and we’ll have a chance to give 
her her book and book-mark yet.” 

I was never as optimistic as Jocelyn, but 
she seemed so sure of herself that I didn’t 
want to throw cold water on her happy 
beliefs. 

“ I certainly hope you’re right,” I said, 
“ and I think you have underestimated one 
thing, anyway. I’m sure we, not just you 
and I, but all of us, have succeeded in doing 
more than finding Hope. I think if each 
and all of us have done our best, we have 
raised enough money to buy the bell with¬ 
out another minute of worry over it.” 

That proved, on Monday, to be exactly 
what had taken place. On arriving at 
school each student received a small blue 


WE NAME OUR BELL 243 

envelope, in which the money he or she had 
received for work done on Saturday was to 
be placed and sealed up. All during recess 
a merry procession wended its way into the 
school-office to drop the envelopes into a 
large box. And that afternoon, when they 
were torn open and the money counted, it 
was found that our united efforts at home 
and abroad had netted the dazzling sum of 
one hundred and eighty dollars! Nobody 
could believe it at first. 

So our bell was safe. There was no 
doubt that we should have it to present at 
New Year’s, and we were all tremendously 
glad and proud of that, and equally proud 
because we felt we had accomplished a 
great deal of useful, constructive work. 
We felt we had done something really valu¬ 
able for our homes and for the industry of 
Daskam, and I believe others thought so, 
too, for many and many were the grown-ups 
who bestowed on us admiring congratula¬ 
tions both for our achievement and for our 
original way of raising funds without doing 


244 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


any preliminary work or going to expense 
in the first place. 

But Jocelyn’s sound scheme had still an¬ 
other result besides guaranteeing the bell. 
From that day when we all worked together 
so hard for a common purpose, the spirit of 
the school began to change for the better. 
That was very evident. The first thing you 
noticed was that people stopped knocking, 
not only because they didn’t seem to have 
time for it any more, but because it was 
plain that the boys and girls who had made 
a failure of their leadership regretted it. 
They showed their regret by working per¬ 
haps harder than any one else that Satur¬ 
day, and, from that time on, by behaving 
like other people, not trying to run every¬ 
thing and not showing themselves superior 
to the rules we all were expected to obey. 
So we couldn’t knock them any more! 
Then the second change in the spirit of the 
school was that, having once got together, 
we seemed to stay together. I never re¬ 
member such a week of peace as that fol- 


WE NAME OUR BELL 245 

lowing our red-letter Saturday, when we 
knew the bell was safe, with our hundred 
and eighty dollars in the bank, and thirty 
of this actually a reserve fund, where before 
there had been nothing but a mournful hole 
in the treasury. I think the first mark of 
our unity was that everybody started to 
study very industriously to pass the mid¬ 
term examinations in early December with 
as much credit as possible. Somehow we all 
felt more responsible than usual for our 
school work now. And the school came 
through those examinations with a rate of 
averages which caused the teachers to smile 
on us with the most dazed gratification, per¬ 
haps feeling that they shared in the credit! 
And maybe they did. Anyway, the marks 
they gave us put several athletic stars back 
on teams, and we all attended practice with 
renewed enthusiasm. The various class 
teams gave new impetus to class spirit by 
their creditable playing, and there was talk 
of arranging an interclass hockey tourna¬ 
ment after Christmas, which would certainly 


246 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


be the first school event within the memory 
of man that was anything like old times—or 
so it seemed, anyhow. In short, we started 
again on the highway to happiness which we 
had formerly travelled without appreciating 
its smoothness. 

Yet, although nobody said so, nothing 
seemed precisely the same as before. We 
had suffered a great deal, though at the same 
time we had learned a great deal; and we 
had come through triumphantly together 
and in the knowledge that we were stronger 
than before for having conquered a bad 
situation in our little community. I think 
we all really felt as if some touch was needed 
to set a seal on our harmonious reunion. 
Well, that climax came, but so naturally that 
at the time we didn’t realize at all that it 
was a climax. 

One day a lot of us were eating our 
luncheon together in our cozy old lunch¬ 
room, and the great piece of news of the 
morning was being discussed. It had just 
been announced. 



WE NAME OUR BELL 


247 


“When, when?” cried Abigail, making 
herself at home at the table where Jocelyn 
and I and several other “ prominent per¬ 
sons,” as Wilbur would doubtless have called 
them had he been reporting the gathering 
for the Green-and-White, were assuaging 
the pangs of hunger. “ And what did you 
call it, ‘ Inspection Day? 

She demanded the information of no less 
a person than John Parker, now G. O. 
president, and with due humility he re¬ 
sponded, “ Yes, Inspection Day, and it s to 
be on New Year’s morning for us, and all 
day for important people.” 

“ Such,” inquired Abigail, “ as who? ” 

“ The mayor, for example,” said John. 
“ The Board of Education is going to tender 
him and other city officials and our faculty 
a luncheon in the new building, to celebrate 
its completion. But students will be al¬ 
lowed to come and inspect it all morning 

before twelve o’clock.” 

“ I’m coming,” Abigail assured the com- 


248 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


pany, as if to set many anxious doubts at 
rest. 

“ I guess nobody will stay away,” said I, 
“ especially if we can see the new bell. And 
if they let us inspect the whole building, 
we’ll surely be allowed up in the bell-tower 
where it will be, no doubt.” 

“ It surely will,” nodded Jocelyn, “ for 
yesterday I met that old workman whom 
Viola and I talked to that day we were up 
in the belfry. He was out here in the 
street, and remembered me, and stopped to 
speak. He said they surely would have all 
the chimes in place and ready to ring at 
New Year’s, though it had been a long job. 
He said 4 Loyalty ’ in particular was so 
heavy that it needed a lot of time and care 
to move.” 

There were many puzzled stares at Joce¬ 
lyn as she spoke the last sentence, and Rand 
asked: 

“ Jocelyn, will you please issue an edition 
with notes of that statement? ” 

“ No, I’ll translate it into English,” she 


WE NAME OUR BELL 


249 


answered; “ I guess it’s my fault you don’t 
understand it. I don’t believe I’ve ever 
mentioned that the biggest bell among the 
chimes is named ‘ Loyalty.’ The name is 
engraved on it.” 

“ And are the others named, too? ” asked 
Doris, quite interested, as was everybody 
else. 

“ No, that’s the only name among them.” 

“ I believe they named just the largest to 
express the spirit that the whole set of 
memorial chimes commemorates,” I sug¬ 
gested. 

“No doubt that’s it,” agreed several 
others. 

“ It’s too bad we didn’t know enough to 
name ours. That would have been a nice 
thing to do,” remarked Abigail, looking at 
Jocelyn and me severely. I said regret¬ 
fully: 

“ It’s too bad we were so forgetful. I 
wish we could name it yet.” 

“ Let’s! ” cried Doris. 

Everybody turned to her with enthusiasm, 


250 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 


for her charm had always commanded atten¬ 
tion, and lately there had been about her a 
sort of reposeful sweetness that was ever so 
attractive. And plainly she had a plan. 

“ Do you know,” she said slowly, “ I think 
it may be a good thing after all that we 
didn’t know until just now that bells could 
be named. I don’t believe it’s too late in 
the day to order ours named, if the name is 
only to be engraved, and wouldn’t that be 
a splendid way to use our thirty extra dol¬ 
lars that we never expected to have? But, 
after all, the real point is that we didn’t 
know until now what would be a good name 
for a bell that completes a set of chimes 
called ‘ Loyalty.’ ” 

Her voice thrilled! It was so plain to 
her just what that bell ought to be called 
that the rest of us, who didn’t quite see it 
yet, waited in silence for her to finish her 
speech. 

“ That bell will ring out the word ‘ free,’ 
the highest note of the national anthem,” 
she said softly. “ So why don’t we name it 


WE NAME OUR BELL 251 

what we’ve all just learned together must 
crown loyalty to the common good-” 

She paused. We all knew now what she 
meant, but we wanted her to say the word 
for us, and she did. 

“ The name I mean,” she said, “ is ‘ Free¬ 
dom ’! ” 

Well, that bell was named by acclama¬ 
tion! And oh, that glorious New Year’s 
Day when “ Freedom ” rang! Never in all 
the world could any one have dreamed the 
half of what happened that day. 



CHAPTER XVIII 


THE DEDICATION 

For you know, of course, how it is when 
one person gets a brilliant idea; every one 
who hears it feels stimulated, and lots of 
people suddenly develop bright ideas them¬ 
selves, and the original one grows and grows 
like a snowball! And that was what hap¬ 
pened when we had decided to name our 
bell. 

When Mr. Lane heard the name, he said 
it was excellent and inspiring, and asked us 
if we wouldn’t like to have a formal pre¬ 
sentation of the bell to the new building. 
Wouldn’t we! We were just enchanted at 
the idea, all of us, so he said we could have 
it on New Year’s morning, and the gift 
committee could arrange the program and 
decide on who should present the bell. 

So we had a meeting, and, to my great 

delight and that of everybody else, too, it 

252 


THE DEDICATION 


253 


was decided that Jocelyn must make the 
presentation speech! She was simply over¬ 
whelmed; in fact, she almost hung back for 
a little, which was quite unlike her, and due 
only to her appreciation of the greatness of 
the occasion. But we all felt that the leader 
who had guided us to victory and won us 
the bell, indeed, ought to present it for us. 
Mr. Lane told her to write a very short 
speech, saying in her own words just what 
she thought the school felt in giving the bell, 
and to let him see it, but keep it a secret 
from everybody else. So she did this, while 
the rest of the gift committee arranged a 
suitable program. 

We took a great deal of trouble over it. 
We conferred carefully with our librarian 
to find interesting things to do for the oc¬ 
casion, for some one told us that for hun¬ 
dreds of years bells have been presented with 
great ceremony, whether church-bells or 
bells of a city or famous building, and, as 
this was an important bell for our school, 
we wanted to present it, if possible, in 


i 


254 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

some fitting traditional manner. At length 
we arranged a beautiful ceremony, wherein 
we planned to depict little historic customs 
which seemed appropriate in connection with 
the dedication of a school-bell, and the 
prospect of performing it added to our 
happy anticipations for the first of January. 

At last New Year’s arrived, a perfect 
mid-winter day. At Daskam that means 
the air is mild, and still—still! Early there 
is fair gray sky very far above the black 
branches, revealing the most distant horizon 
sharply, then slowly it turns to pale blue, 
and down through the whole arch filters 
golden sunlight all the rest of the day. It 
was just the day for our festival, for so the 
inspection of our new school-home seemed 
to us, who had waited for it so long and so 
longingly. 

Directly after breakfast I proudly donned 
for the first time the pretty new gray coat 
my parents had given me for Christmas, 
buttoned it up smartly over my favorite 
green frock—it was still a favorite at the 


THE DEDICATION 255 

end of three whole months!—and danced 
down to our gate to meet Jocelyn, who was 
waiting for me there in the sunlight. I 
was terribly excited, though she wasn’t. She 
was quiet and bright and sweet, like the day. 

But both of us got a thrill a few minutes 
later, as we mounted the steps and entered 
the splendid red-and-white colonial building 
now ready to receive us permanently the 
very next day, when the holidays ended. It 
seemed almost as if we had never seen it 
before, we were so dazed to realize that at 
last it was ours, that glorious school. But 
we rallied and made a quick recovery from 
the shock! 

First we found our own new spick-and- 
span classroom on the third floor, then we 
visited the shops, the laboratories, the li¬ 
brary, studios, gymnasium, and every other 
crack and cranny inside the four walls, and 
you couldn’t have convinced us that every¬ 
thing we saw wasn’t perfect. We found 
crowds of our friends everywhere we went, 
and then, of course, as soon as we grew 


256 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


familiar with the building we rushed back 
to the entrances to seize newcomers to escort 
around and show things off to. There were 
plenty of them, all students at that early 
hour. I made several tours as escort, and 
on one of them passed Rand and Wilbur, 
overzealously early in charge of the guests’ 
checking-room. 

“ Come on, give us something to check! ” 
urged Wilbur, trying to drum up trade. 
“ Viola, everybody’s seen that new coat now. 
You’ll get a heat-stroke if you keep it on 
any longer.” 

Between excitement and racing up and 
down stairs I was indeed nearly melted, even 
to my pride. I let him take the coat. 

“ Heard the news? ” he asked affably, 
presenting me with my check. 

“ Nothing special,” I answered. 

“ Our unique position of influence always 
keeps us posted, you know,” Rand informed 
me aside, while he gave Wilbur an approv¬ 
ing poke. “ And ’tis well, ’tis well, on ac¬ 
count of getting out our special edition of 


THE DEDICATION 


257 


the Green-and-White for to-day. We must 
needs fill it up somehow.” 

The special edition, I should say, was an¬ 
other idea due to the naming of the bell 
and the attendant ceremony. The editorial 
board was celebrating the presentation of 
the gift by bringing out the January copy 
of the Green-and-White that day instead 
of the next Friday, with four extra pages 
about the latest school happenings. 

“No trouble to me to write any amount 
of junk any time,” announced Wilbur, shov¬ 
ing Rand aside in a dignified manner. 
“ The news I was going to tell you, Viola, 
is so new that it’s not even coming out in 
the paper. We’re going to have a concert 
on the chimes this morning.” 

“That certainly is news!” I cried. “I 
thought we were going to hear them first 
the first day of school.” 

“We were, but as long as they are re¬ 
ported completely in order a little ahead of 
schedule, we’re to have a concert to-day.” 

“That’ll be the climax!” I declared. 


258 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


perfectly delighted at the thought of hear¬ 
ing the bells ringing again. 

“ Snappy New Year, eh? ” cried Rand. 

Wilbur offered to print that joke in the 
next Green-and-White if Rand would buy 
space for it! I tore off to spread the news. 
After looking all over for Jocelyn, and 
dropping the glad tidings everywhere as I 
went, to the great satisfaction of every¬ 
body, I finally discovered her talking to 
Doris at the head of the fourth-floor side- 
staircase. This was where all the students 
were shortly to assemble, to go up to the 
belfry for the presentation. Doris was 
evidently making the final arrangements. 

“ You’ll surely be right here in ten min¬ 
utes, when the signal sounds, won’t you, 
Jocelyn? ” I heard her say, as I came pant¬ 
ing up. ‘‘You have to go at the head of 
the procession so as to be in front, you 
know.” 

But almost before Jocelyn could promise, 
and certainly before I could get my breath 
to make my wonderful announcement, out 


THE DEDICATION 


259 


from a near-by classroom popped Abigail 
with several of her devoted first-year fol¬ 
lowers. 

“ Oh, are you there, Jocelyn? ” she cried. 
“ I just heard your voice and Doris’s. I 
wanted to see you specially this morning. 
What are you going to say in your speech? ” 

Jocelyn smiled and shook her head wisely. 
“ It’s not really a speech at all,” she said. 
“ Wait and see! ” 

“ All right,” agreed Abigail amiably. 
“ That wasn’t really what I had to say to 
you, anyhow. I’ve been telling the girls 
how my fortune has come true,—you know, 
the birthday fortune you read me at the 
party,—and I wanted you to know, too.” 
She was fumbling in a pocket while talking 
as fast as she could chatter. “ I copied it 
when you read it, and decided then never to 
tell many people about it because it sounded 
so improbable. But it has come true, so 
it’s good to tell now, especially because it 
has a sort of New Year’s forecast, too. 
That’s why I brought it—here it is! ” 


260 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


She finally produced a slip of paper, and 
read to us, as all her admirers stood breath¬ 
less around her: 

“ ‘ Perplexing problems will fall to your 
lot-’ ” 

“ Puzzles, of course,” kindly explained 
one of the admirers to Jocelyn and Doris 
and me, as we had not been present at the 
previous interpretation of the fortune. 

“ ‘ But if you use your mind to work out 
such difficulties in private counsel, you will 
find them at last triumphs won-’ ” 

“ Prizes, you see,” pointed out the com¬ 
mentator. 

And each succeeding year will bring 
you clearer vision and warmer charity,’ ” 
concluded Abigail, and as she raised her 
eyes they rested thoughtfully for just a sec¬ 
ond on Doris. “ The prediction part is 
what I like,” she observed, “ because it 
means I’ll be nicer all the time! ” 

We didn’t often laugh at Abigail, but 
this time we had to, it was so unlike her 
to be whimsical. Even Doris, who never 




THE DEDICATION 


261 


had had very much use for her, naturally, 
laughed, too, and then her laugh became a 
really appreciative smile. But despite Abi¬ 
gail’s interesting and original remarks, I 
couldn’t hold in my news one second longer, 
now that I had breath to utter it. I broke 
out in excitement which delay had only in¬ 
creased : 

“Girls! There’s going to be a concert 
on the chimes this morning! I’ve just 
heard! ” 

“Hurray, hurray!” cried everybody. 
“ When, when? ” 

Well, I had been so excited I had for¬ 
gotten to ask what time! So all our young 
first-year friends instantly bolted down¬ 
stairs to make inquiries, and Doris dashed 
up to the roof to see if all her arrange¬ 
ments were in working order. Jocelyn and 
I exchanged a glance and went into the 
near-by classroom to sit down until it should 
be time to form in procession. Perhaps it 
was unusual for us to sit down and rest, 
but we had had a pretty full morning and 


262 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


there was still much of it remaining ahead 
of us. 

“ Well, if that wasn’t the crowning touch 
—Abigail offering to smoke the peace-pipe 
on New Year’s morning! ” murmured Joce¬ 
lyn, stifling a laugh. “ And Doris taking 
her up! ” 

“ And she used our presence there to make 
it easy for all concerned,” I pointed out. 
“ And her birthday fortune came in most 
usefully, didn’t it? I don’t know how I 
ever kept sober. Puzzles—prizes—indeed! 
I could make a very different interpretation 
of that fortune, and so could you. Do you 
suppose she could know Doris told us 
about—about the sniffs? 33 

“ I almost wondered. You were always 
so friendly with Doris, you know, Viola. 
But what interpretation do you make of 
Abigail’s extraordinary conduct and re¬ 
marks? ” 

“ If I tell you,” said I, “ remember, I 
can never prove it’s true, for Abigail is al¬ 
ways a Sphinx girl. But, though not so 



THE DEDICATION 


263 


bright at puzzles as some, I have had for 
some time a theory as to how she came to 
know about the smudge.” 

“ I never could make that out at all.” 

I drew Jocelyn over to a window which 
gave a view up and across the street. 
“ You remember,” said I, “ that Abigail’s 
family had just moved into one of those 
new bungalows? You remember, too, that 
the big window in her living-room commands 
a wide view, including, among other things, 
the front door of this building? I think 
she saw Doris and Archer and their crowd 
coming in here that afternoon, and very 
likely saw them skylarking around the main 
hall near that painting, through one of those 
big windows that flank the door. I think 
her ‘ fortune ’ made a great impression on 
her, made her decide to ‘ use her mind ’ to 
do something about the disgrace of that 
smudge. Hence the sniffs, and—I don’t 
know, of course, but isn’t it possible that 
when we were all talking so endlessly about 
the accident, she conveyed to Wilbur that 


264 THE CHIMES OF HASKAM HIGH 


she knew how it had happened? Of course 
she never mentioned names any more than 
he asked for them, but such was his con¬ 
fidence in her character, I believe, that he 
forthwith conceived and wrote his famous 
editorial in a desperate effort to bolster up 
the school spirit.” 

“Mazes untangled while you wait!” 
teased Jocelyn. “ Even if you can’t prove 
your theories, Viola, they strike me as 
sound. Abigail’s not the only keen observer 
we have in these parts, my dear! ” 

“ I haven’t finished! ” 

“ Excuse me, please! Do go on! ” 

“ I was only going to ask you if you 
didn’t think Abigail was conveying the fact 
that hereafter she hoped to learn how to 
be—well, shall I say slightly less violent 
in her manner of fulfilling her fortune? ” 

“ She made it very clear, I think,” smiled 
Jocelyn sympathetically. “ Abigail is so 
clever she can learn from her mistakes—they 
say that’s the hardest thing any one can 
do. But Doris has done it, too, Viola. 



THE DEDICATION 


265 


Look how she named our bell, exactly 
right; and look at this wonderful program 
she has arranged without trying to get a 
single bit of glory out of it. I do wish I 
might be able to learn that same way.” 

And she never realized that she had done 
it—our happy-go-lucky Jocelyn whose own 
determined effort had caused her to rise like 
a star out of clouds to lead us all ahead! 
But before I could say a word, an electric 
peal rang through the building. “ The 
signal! ” cried Jocelyn, springing to her feet. 

Up all the staircases came the tramping 
of many feet, and as we hurried out into 
the hall the procession was already forming 
to ascend to the belfry. There was only a 
faint buzz of conversation at first, which 
died down as we fell into line. Then we 
heard the door to the roof directly above us 
thrown open, and the school band, which was 
stationed up there near the belfry, began to 
play a march. 

Slowly the procession began to move up¬ 
ward, and when we stepped out on the roof. 


266 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


what a splendid sight met our eyes! The 
gilded belfry shone dazzlingly in the mild 
sunshine, a great array of finely-clad guests, 
including the mayor of Daskam himself, 
already waited at one side of the belfry, 
and inside the gilt dome we could catch a 
glimpse of Something that must have been 
hanging from the top of the bell-frame, for 
over it was flung on one side the Stars and 
Stripes, and on the other the city of Das- 
kam’s sea-green flag with its white-sailed 
ship and its crimson rose, while beneath it 
fell the folds of the green-and-white banner 
of the school. 

The band played louder and louder, as 
we all paraded around the belfry in honor 
of the bell, which we had learned was a cus¬ 
tom among townspeople long ago when they 
celebrated the coming of a new bell to their 
town. And as we passed the fourth corner 
of the tower, just before forming into a 
hollow square, each of us received a beauti¬ 
ful souvenir,—a lovely program printed in 
the holiday colors, given to us by our local 


THE DEDICATION 267 

school-board to remember the day of tri¬ 
umph. 

We halted in formation, the music ceased, 
and Mr. Lane began to speak. He said it 
was a joyful occasion for the school, for 
Daskam, and, he personally thought, for the 
whole United States, when girls and boys 
gave such a dazzling and united example of 
how to start the New Year right! Then, 
having got us all happy, he introduced the 
mayor, who was very jolly, fat, and nice. 

“ I always expect to learn something when 
I go to school,” said he, “ and this morning 
I am not disappointed. I learn that I am 
to act the historic role of the burgomaster 
who welcomes a bell presented to his com¬ 
munity. And while not very learned, I 
fear, in the ways of burgomasters, I will 
welcome this beautiful and fitting gift to 
the very best of my ability. Girls and boys, 
I congratulate you on your generosity, your 
thoughtfulness, your industry, your patriot¬ 
ism, which have prompted and achieved 
this gift. I understand it completes our 


268 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


set of chimes in a unique and charming 
fashion. I rejoice with you all that we 
shall hear their voices again this morning, 
for these lend a harmony to our life together 
which every one of us has missed while they 
were forced to be silent. And when the 
gift is revealed, let us not forget that the 
beauty of a bell can lie deeper than its form, 
no matter how exquisite—deeper than its 
sound, no matter how sweet; the deepest 
beauty of this bell of yours lies in the mes¬ 
sage that it will ever speak to your hearts.” 

As he ended, Helen Edson and Rand 
Potter stepped out from the ranks on op¬ 
posite sides of the belfry, approached the 
veiled part of the bell-frame, and each pulled 
a cord. The flags fell to the lower bell- 
frame, and “Freedom” was revealed be¬ 
fore us! 

That dear, bright, shining little bell hang¬ 
ing last and highest of all the chimes! Not 
one of us will ever forget our first glimpse 
of it. There was a moment of stillness, and 
then Jocelyn, whose moment had come, 



THE DEDICATION 269 

stepped from the front rank, and, facing 
both the guests and the bell, spoke clearly, 
sweetly, and without an effort: 

“ Honored guests and teachers—dear 
comrades! To our new school, the gracious 
gift of our fair and noble city, we students 
of Daskam High School present this bell. 

“ O Bell! We name thee ‘ Freedom.’ 
“May thy voice ever sing to us the sweet¬ 
ness of thy name. 

“ May thy song ever challenge us to 
guard our freedom with joyful courage, 

obedience, and love.” 

That was all she said; then she stepped 
quietly back into her place. Yet we felt 
that she had not only fittingly dedicated the 
bell, but that somehow she had dedicated us, 

too. 


CHAPTER XIX 


WHEN “ FREEDOM ” RANG 

Then the band struck up again, and we 
all sang “ High on a Hill above the Sea,” 
the music ringing out beautifully through 
the clear air. And after that we came to 
the last number on the program, the “ ribbon 
ceremony ” for the bell, which was as pretty 
and merry as could be. Two boys and two 
girls, each representing one of the four 
classes, tied tricolored ribbons on the bell, 
decorating it and saying a charm in four 
couplets which Doris had written specially: 

“ Red, white, and blue, 

Ring north, ring true. 

“ White, blue, and red, 

Ring south, end dread. 

“ Blue, red, and white, 

Ring east, send light. 

“ Tri-color clad, 

Ring west, be glad! ” 

270 


WHEN “ FREEDOM ” RANG 271 

We took one final look at the bell, and 
then again to music we began to retrace 
our steps into the building, well satisfied 
with our presentation ceremonies. 

In the hall we broke ranks, and Jocelyn 
and I decided, with many of our com¬ 
panions, to go downstairs to the front hall 
and enjoy the mural paintings there again 
until the chimes should begin to play, which, 
we had heard, would be at a quarter of 
twelve. As we walked down the main stair¬ 
case the clock in the main front hall struck 
once—it was half-past eleven. Several 
people simultaneously cried, “ Fifteen min¬ 
utes more! ” And several others turned to 
Jocelyn and told her they had liked her 

“ speech ” very much. 

“ Did you write it all yourself? ” asked 

somebody. 

“ Yes,” said she, 44 but I thought I should 
die before I did it! ” 

44 Why, it didn’t sound hard! ” cried some¬ 
body else—the usual person, no doubt, who 
can be counted on to say such things. 



272 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

“ When did you get it done, Jocelyn? ” I 
asked. 

“ Yesterday morning. I got perfectly 
desperate,” she confessed, “ and then sud¬ 
denly it all bounced into my head at once. 
I wrote it down and showed it to Mr. Lane, 
and he said it would do very well and not 
to change a word of it.” 

By this time we had turned on the first 
landing, and started down the last half- 
flight of steps. And just at that moment 
we saw, through one of the great windows 
flanking the front door, an automobile slow¬ 
ing down at the gate. Mr. Lane, whom we 
had seen excusing himself upstairs to the 
mayor’s party, flashed down the steps beside 
us, and hastened down the front walk to¬ 
ward the automobile. 

Next minute we recognized, alighting 
from it, a pleasant-looking gra3 r -haired gen¬ 
tleman. It was Mr. Pollock, the artist 
whom we had met that evening he was 
working on those very paintings beside us. 
No doubt he was invited to the luncheon 


WHEN “ FREEDOM ” RANG 273 

which would so soon begin, and had come 
early to inspect the building first. But be¬ 
fore we had had time to hope that he might 
see us and speak to us again, he had turned 
and begun to assist from the car a tall young 
girl who had on a wide black hat and a long 
yellow sport cape! 

“Viola, Viola!” gasped Jocelyn, clutch¬ 
ing my arm wildly; “ she’s here, she’s here! ” 
As if I didn’t know that! 

“ I told you we’d see her again, didn’t I? 
Didnt I? And O horrors! ” 

“ What’s the matter? ” 

“ That book’s in my desk in the old build¬ 
ing!” 

“ Well, why the horrors? You can get 
it better than if you had left it home.” 

“ I probably couldn’t get it before she’d 
be gone again!” groaned Jocelyn, appar¬ 
ently disheartened by so many unsuccessful 
near-encounters with this girl who, quite 
unconscious of all our emotions, was now 
coming up the walk between Mr. Pollock 
and Mr. Lane. 


274 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

“ Now don’t lose your nerve,” said I 
firmly, as this seemed to be one of the rare 
occasions when I could order Jocelyn 
around. “ Watch me fix this! ” 

I looked around the crowded hall for 
Archer Macklyn, whom I had seen there 
just a moment before. Finally I saw him, 
beckoned, and he came over to us. 

“ Who’s that girl? ” I demanded, nod¬ 
ding toward the walk. 

“With Mr. Pollock—the man in the gray 
overcoat? She’s his niece, Miss Hope Sea¬ 
borne,” answered Archer. 

The trio entered the building, Mr. Lane 
leading the way to the elevator, with all eyes 
on him and his guests, and once more Hope 
vanished from our view! Archer remained 
to chat a minute. 

“ They’ve been at the hotel some weeks 
while Mr. Pollock was painting these pic¬ 
tures,” he informed us. “ Miss Seaborne’s 
quite artistic herself. She’s going to be a 
photographic artist, I hear. She’s studying 
for such work already, for while her uncle 


WHEN “ FREEDOM ” RANG 275 

was busy painting, she was a pupil at the 
Malden School of Photography here in 
Daskam.” 

That was all most interesting, and it was 
much to Hope’s credit if that famous school 
would accept her as a pupil, but Jocelyn’s 
mind was on just one thing. She had got 
all her nerve back quite miraculously, and 
was resolved to get acquainted with Hope 
this time or perish in the attempt, as the 
saying is. 

“ O dear! ” she cried. “ I’ve got a book 
belonging to that girl which I want to give 
back to her, and it’s in my desk in the old 
building. You stay here, Viola, and watch 
for her while I go and get it.” 

“ Hold on, I’ll get it for you,” offered 
Archer, as I had been sure he would. “ I 
can do that faster than you can, and you 
know she may be going in a minute, for 
it’s getting on to time for the luncheon. 
She can’t be invited to that, and everybody 
who isn’t will have to clear out at noon. 

So Jocelyn gratefully told him which book 


276 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


it was in her desk, and he hurried out across 
the street. And though he had but little 
time, and the building was closed for the 
holidays, and he had to ring the bell and 
wait for the janitor and explain why he 
wanted to go in, Archer did just these 
things and did not scale a tempting fire- 
escape and enter through a window, as once 
he would unquestionably have done without 
a thought, and probably now refrained from 
doing, as he was a perfectly normal boy, 
with much self-restraint and numerous re¬ 
grets. But the point was that he did re¬ 
frain from so doing, and was remarkably 
speedy on his errand into the bargain. For 
the few minutes he was away we kept a 
sharp lookout in the direction of the elevator, 
to watch for Hope’s return, standing near 
one of the big windows to signal him, if 
possible, to hurry, in case we saw her. But 
he appeared first, and when Jocelyn saw him 
coming across the street she began to take 
great credit to herself for having had the 
fortune-book in school instead of at home. 


WHEN “ FREEDOM ” RANG 277 

“ It’s here because of that class-theme we 
had assigned in English just before the holi¬ 
days, you remember,” she explained—“ ‘ My 
Favorite Book,’ you know. I brought it 
along to refer to.” 

Then Archer came racing in, and still 
Hope was nowhere to be seen. And then, 
just as he put “Your Birthday Fortune” 
into Jocelyn’s hands amid profuse thanks, 
high, high above us rang out a deep golden 
note of music! 

Then, amid the joyous silence that sud¬ 
denly filled the whole building as we once 
again heard the voices of our beloved chimes 
of Daskam, came another and a deeper 
note, then one still deeper, and then the song 
swelled up, up, and up—it was “ The Star- 
Spangled Banner!” 

Never before had we heard it on the Das¬ 
kam chimes—never, until “ Freedom ” rang! 
And never should we have heard it if we 
girls and boys had not learned through our 
own experience that we were freemen be¬ 
cause we were bound by common laws of 



278 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


welfare and good. I don’t think any one 
could ever have felt more deeply than we 
did the beauty of that national anthem of 
ours, as we stood far down below the ring¬ 
ing bells, listening to the hidden music. 
You could see every scene flash by you: the 
dawn’s early light—the broad stripes and 
bright stars in full glory reflected on the 
stream—the ramparts—the rockets’ red 
glare—the bursting bombs—and, through 
everything, the Flag, still there. So all the 
bells of “ Loyalty ” played the anthem of 
our country’s greatness, and “ Freedom ” 
completed the song! 

The last reverberation died. For a long, 
never-to-be-forgotten moment, a beautiful 
solemnity hung over the hall. We looked 
at each other’s shining faces, we looked at 
“ Ourselves,” the spirited boys and girls on 
the walls, all their colors gayer than ever in 
the noon sunshine, and we knew that such 
as they ought indeed to be able to make a 
land of the free and a home of the brave. 
Our gaze swept the whole series of pictures 



WHEN “ FREEDOM ” RANG 279 

that stretched around the hall—across the 
landing—and then, suddenly — 

Right down on that landing, all by her¬ 
self, tall, stately, friendly-eyed, stepped— 
Hope Seaborne! 



CHAPTER XX 


in hope’s memory-book 

Jocelyn bounded forward—but she 
dragged me along too! Hope remembered 
her, smiled, then glanced at me, and I 
thought she seemed to recognize me also. 
Everybody was looking at us, interested in 
Jocelyn, fascinated by the picturesqueness 
of Hope, but Jocelyn, paying no attention, 
leaped up the steps holding out the horse- 
shoe-covered book. 

“ I’ve got your book! ” she cried breath¬ 
lessly. 4 4 1 did so want to find you and give 
it to you right away, but you see if I had 
been able to, we never should have got 
4 Freedom ’! ” 

Delight sprang to Hope’s eyes as she 

grasped the book eagerly, crying: 44 Oh, 

thank you, thank you! But how in the 

world-” She could go no farther. 

That book was now pretty famous in Das- 

280 




/ > -, yj 


S 


't * •'*#» 




•ii /• 

-.lb 


.:.. . . 


- ^ W- ' ■ - , t 

7 ..' K ’ *» '' 

" 


IS 

. 

WJ 


“I’ve got your bookshe cried breathlessly. Page 280 














IN HOPE’S MEMORY-BOOK 281 

kam High School, and ripples of laughter 
that soon swelled into a wave broke over 
the audience that had heard Jocelyn’s 
remarkable utterance. “ Jocelyn found 
‘ Freedom ’ in Kendall Street! ” cried some¬ 
body, and the walls rang again. No won¬ 
der Hope looked bewildered, though she 
joined very gallantly in mirth she didn’t 
understand at all. Then we all cried: 
“ Sh-h—sh-h-h!” and in a minute Jocelyn 
had explained rather incoherently how she 
had come across the fortune-book in a sec¬ 
ond-hand stall, and had never believed that 
Hope could have put it there. 

“ I certainly never did,” cried Hope. 
“ It’s a complete mystery to me how it ever 
got there! But I did grieve over losing it. 
And how grateful I am to you for bringing 
it back to me!” she assured Jocelyn, her 
deep bright-blue eyes sparkling. “ And to 
think that I’ve seen you twice before, and 
talked to you, and never knew you had it! ” 

“ And I never knew you owned it until 
that day I was a water-girl and heard them 


282 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

paging you at the hotel,” gasped Jocelyn. 
“ And oh, oh, oh, there’s so much more to 
tell you! Dear, dear, do you really have to 
go away again? ” 

“ The car’s waiting,” answered Hope 
hesitatingly. “ I’m afraid my aunt expects 
me at the hotel.” 

“ But Viola and I—this is Viola,” an¬ 
nounced Jocelyn, dragging me forward— 
“ simply have got to tell you everything! ” 

“ And I’ve got to hear it,” declared Hope 
decisively. “ Oh, Viola, you were a water- 
girl, too, and a singing-school girl besides! ” 

“ Listen!” I cried, suddenly inspired. 
“ If you could come home with me to 
luncheon, as Jocelyn is going to, you could 
hear everything, right away instantly! 
Please come. Can’t you telephone your 
people that you have an invitation? I live 
on Poplar Avenue, just down the hill.” 

“ How sweet of you to ask me—I’ll just 
love to come! ” cried Hope delightedly; and 
then it seemed as if the most awful thought 
flashed into her mind just as we crossed the 


IN HOPE’S MEMORY-BOOK 283 

threshold and started down the walk. She 
stopped short, looked at me with absolute 
pathos, and finally said slowly: 

“ I don’t believe you’ll want me when 
you see—when you see-” 

“Of course I want you!” I declared 
stoutly. 

She looked at me one single instant 
longer, and then burst into the merriest 
laugh in the world. 

“ Even when you see— this ? 99 she de¬ 
manded, and threw back her long yellow 
cape. 

She had on my green dress! 

“ Oh, I want you more than ever now,” 
I cried, “ for you must tell me where you 
got it, and how you came to choose it, and 
if you are mad because I have one, too. And 
I must tell you how I saw you in that dress 
last October, one Saturday afternoon, look¬ 
ing into Harlan’s window, within an hour of 
the time when Jocelyn picked up your birth¬ 
day book in Kendall Street! ” 

So she finally agreed to come, and I 





284 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

dashed back into the building to get the coat 
I had forgotten until that moment, and then 
Hope said we must all drive to my house 
and she would send a message back to her 
aunt at the hotel by the chauffeur. So off 
we drove through the clear still air, with the 
distant chimes playing all our old favorites 
behind us as the concert went on. And soon 
we had come up my brown garden-path with 
the little snow-drifts hiding here and there 
in corners, and into the little white house 
where I live, which was very quiet just then 
because all my family had gone driving for 
the day, and when we sat down I got my 
first real idea of what Hope Seaborne was 
like. 

All I had known was that she was tall 
and dark, but now I could see she was grace¬ 
ful, though her movements were quick, too. 
Her hair, nearly black, was wavy, massed 
in two coils over her ears. She had very 
little color, but that seemed natural, for her 
skin looked like a water-lily petal, contrast¬ 
ing quite wonderfully with the deep blue of 


IN HOPE’S MEMORY-BOOK 285 


her eyes. She was quite thin, and her 
features were so irregular that some people 
would never have called her pretty, but I 
thought she had a great deal of charm and 
was very vivid and interesting. She hadn’t 
talked very much on the way over, had 
rather, in fact, seemed to be thinking very 
hard about something, and I quite longed 
to hear her speak. I wondered if she 
was shy. 

“ I suppose you first came to Daskam 
when your uncle was asked to paint his 
beautiful pictures in the school? ” I sug¬ 
gested, as the three of us sat waiting for 
luncheon to be served. 

“ Yes, that was it,” answered Hope, quite 
at ease. “ Of course ordinarily I should 
have just stayed at home in Hollins and 
gone to school there, but last summer I got 
pneumonia. I was in camp and there was 
an accident. A little boy who couldn’t 
swim stepped into a hole and had to be 
fished out and re-sus-ci-tat-ed—hoo-ray! I 
said it right!—and I got chilled and took 



286 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

sick. So the doctor didn’t want me to go 
to school this year until the February term, 
because I was pretty weak after I got well, 
and, as my aunt was coming to Daskam with 
my uncle, they decided to bring me along. 
And I got stronger and stronger in this 
splendid sea air until I was able to do some 
studying, and Uncle Steve had me entered 
as a student at the Malden School of 
Photography here.” 

“ You must be a wonder if you go there,” 
I observed respectfully. “ They take only 
students who want to become professionals, 
don’t they? ” 

“ Yes, and photography is going to be my 
profession,” answered Hope, her eyes shin¬ 
ing. “ Artistic photography is my greatest 
interest. And it’s such a pleasure to work 
hard in a place like this, where you can 
make such beautiful outdoor studies, that I 
never mind dropping anything I’m doing, 
no matter what it is, when I get a call from 
one of my teachers to come and take pic¬ 
tures in a certain light-” 



IN HOPE’S MEMORY-BOOK 287 


Jocelyn sat up so abruptly that Hope 
paused inquiringly. 

“ Did you get a call like that the day 
Viola and I were water-girls at the Mack- 
lyn House? ” demanded Jocelyn. 

“Yes, I did!” Then Hope sat up 
abruptly in turn. “ Viola, didn’t you say 
you saw me looking into Harlan’s window 
one Saturday last October? Wasn’t I look¬ 
ing at that marvellous photographic exhibit 
there ? Were you ’ ’ 

“ Jocelyn and I were both alongside of 
you, looking at it, too!” 

“ Then I know now how that book of mine 
must have got on that stall in Kendall 
Street! ” she declared boldly. 

“ Tell us, tell us! ” we cried in great ex¬ 
citement. 

“All in good time, dears!” said Hope 
with roguish primness. “ I must prepare 
the scene—get the right angle on this new 
view of our adventures! Viola, may I 
please use your telephone? ” 

And not another word could we get out 




288 THE CHIMES OF DASH AM HIGH 


of her then. How she laughed at us 
through the glass door of the telephone- 
closet in the hall as we danced around in 
impatience, imploring her to speak! But it 
was no use, she wouldn’t, at least not to us. 
But she did speak to some one at the other 
end of the wire, and we heard her cry, “ Yes, 
right away, please! ” As soon as she hung 
up, luncheon was announced, and as hostess 
I deftly diverted attention to that. Then at 
last, just as we finished, there was a ring 
at the door-bell, and the maid brought in a 
flat square package which she said Mr. Pol¬ 
lock’s chauffeur had just left for “ Miss Sea¬ 
borne.” 

Hope tore off the wrapper swiftly and 
revealed a green leather-bound book with a 
golden word across the cover: “ Memory- 
Book ” leaped to our astonished eyes! 

“ Here’s the Clue,” announced Hope so 
solemnly that she seemed to talk in capitals, 
“ to the Mystery of the Missing Book. Now, 
Viola and Jocelyn, gather around, and listen 
to the solution! ” 


m HOPE’S MEMOKY-BOOK 289 

But we were so amazed that for a moment 
neither of us could move. We just sat star¬ 
ing at Hope. Who had ever heard of a 
clue arriving on the scene all by itself as 
a climax to its mystery? Hope laughed at 
us more merrily than before. 

“ I can’t be very convincing,” she cried; 
“ you don’t believe me! I assure you, girls, 
this memory-book will solve the mystery of 
the fortune-book.” 

“ We certainly must believe you and do 
as you say,” I declared finally, recovering 
myself. “ Come, Jocelyn, let’s gather 
around quickly, and end this terrible sus¬ 
pense! ” 

We gathered promptly indeed, giggling a 
little despite our hushed expectation. Hope 
quickly turned to a page headed “ October 
30.” We gave a gasp, for that was the day, 
of course, when we had gone to Kendall 
Street. 

“ Go on,” ordered Hope. “ Look at my 
Daskam page.” 

We did. And this is what we saw: 


290 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


THE DASKAM PAGE IN HOPE’S 
MEMORY-BOOK 

October 30 

(An entry in Hope’s handwriting) : 

My favorite book may be lost, but my fortune 
still remains to be fulfilled: 

“ All names have meanings. Learn what 

yours means, express it in your life, and 

you will find your honored place.” 

* * * 

Two rows of funny little kodak pictures, all 
of boys and girls working and playing in vari¬ 
ous ways. 

* * * 

A copy of the musical program of our famous 
Singing-School. 

* * * 

A bright-red feather. 

* * * 

A beautiful photographic study of our fine 
new school-belfry. 






IK HOPE’S MEMORY-BOOK 291 


“ Have you seen it all? ” inquired Hope, 
after we had gazed a long time at the page 
with the greatest if not the most intelligent 
interest. “ Very well, Sherlock will now 
oblige! Do you girls happen to remember 
that the week which ended that historic 
October thirtieth we had a terrific wind¬ 
storm here? ” We nodded assent. 44 Well, 
I have special cause to remember it, for two 
reasons. The first is that I’m one of those 
interesting people who wouldn’t wake up at 
night for an earthquake, so that when I 
awoke the morning after the wind-storm I 
was amazed to find that nearly all the fur¬ 
niture in my room had been blown over on 
the floor during the night. And the second 
reason is that it was the wind-storm which 
made me start this Daskam page! 

44 Y r ou see,” she continued, as we listened 
more interestedly than ever, 44 the morning 
after the storm was the first time I missed 
my fortune-book. I’ve thought the whole 
thing over since you returned it to me, Joce- 
lyn, and it’s quite clear to me now that the 


292 THE CHIMES OF D ASK AM HIGH 


book blew out of the window somehow, and 
was picked up by some one who, not know¬ 
ing me, for of course I was a newcomer here 
then, and seeing the book was not valuable, 
disposed of it to the second-hand man, nat¬ 
urally enough. Well, I felt very bad over 
losing it, because it had the names and 
birthdays of all my friends in it, and I 
mourned sadly for a good while, for the bad 
weather kept me indoors until that very 
Saturday afternoon when you first saw me. 
But when I had had a walk in this lovely 
town, and saw how the storm had cleared 
off, I felt better and decided to work out 
my fortune whether my book was lost or 
not. So, as you see, I started a Daskam 
page, in memory of that resolution, that 
very evening.” 

“Tell us the story of the things you’ve 
put on the page,” begged Jocelyn and I in 
one breath. 

“ That won’t take long,” laughed Hope 
happily, “ though they’re all ever so dear to 
me. These kodak pictures I took at home. 


IN HOPE’S MEMORY-BOOK 293 

I put them in here because they have many 
of the original ideas used in the series of 
paintings in your school. I was deeply in¬ 
terested in Uncle Steve’s commission here, 
and I showed him all my pictures from my 
own school and camp, and he got some hints 
from them. Then I loved your singing- 
school so much I had to include the pro¬ 
gram. I guess Mr. Lane knew it was go¬ 
ing to be wonderful, for he invited me 
specially for that day, and I got Aunt Edith 
to go with me. And now this red feather 
you’ll never guess where it came from—off 
that crazy Indian boy’s war-bonnet!” 

Jocelyn and I shouted, and so did Hope, 
at the recollection of Rand’s antics. 

“You remember about the red stock¬ 
ings?” she cried. “And how the squire 
shook the Indian boy for interrupting his 
speech? Well, the feathers flew, this one 
into my lap! And the reason I kept it is 
because it’s really a souvenir of how we 
came to stay in Daskam so long. You see, 
Uncle Steve is a nervous man, and just at 


294 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

that time he was depressed—he felt his work 
wasn’t going well here. So that evening I 
told him all about what wonderful, original 
boys and girls you all were, and when I 
described the Indian boy and the stockings 
and the feather, he suddenly burst out 
laughing nearly as loud as I had so dis¬ 
gracefully that afternoon at the show, and 
said he must just try to get that painting 
done as soon as he could after all, for cer¬ 
tainly a lot of those Daskam young folks 
must be pretty good stuff! ” 

Jocelyn and I looked at each other with¬ 
out a word, but all smiles. Anyway, there 
was one boy who was pretty good stuff, 
without any pretensions, either, and his name 
was Rand Potter. 

“ And now my Daskam page is finished,” 
concluded Hope, “ by this study of your 
belfry. My teacher thinks it’s my best piece 
of work so far, indeed, he said it almost 
did justice to your beautiful school build¬ 
ing. So I’ve ended the Daskam page 
with it.” 


IN HOPE’S MEMORY-BOOK 295 

“ No, Hope,” said I, “ the page isn’t 
ended.” 

I got up and ran to the bookcase, where 
from a shelf I snatched a French text-book 
which we had just finished reading before 
Christmas, and which I had brought home, 
and from it I took a little piece of red card¬ 
board, which I laid on the page of the 
memory-book below the picture. “ You 
might end it with that,” said I. 

“ Where in the world did it come from— 
my own rebus book-mark that I made for 
the fortune-book!” gasped Hope in utter 
astonishment. 

“ I found it up in the belfry in our old 
school,” I began, and then I realized that 
we had been so busy listening to Hope’s 
story that we hadn’t told her any of ours. 
“ I think,” said I, “ it must have blown out 
of your book that windy night, and been 
carried upward into the belfry because it was 
so light. But oh, Hope, more than ever this 
isn’t the end of your Daskam story, for now 
Jocelyn and I must tell you all about what 


296 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

your book did for Daskam, and our story 
really starts from that old belfry! ” 

So it was her turn to listen. We told her 
everything that had happened since Jocelyn 
and I came up the hill from Kendall Street 
that Saturday afternoon, and how thrilled 
she was to hear that the Daskam girls and 
boys had come to work out their fortunes 
found in her book! Of course we said little 
of the accident to the painting, merely in¬ 
dicating that we had heedlessly given our 
leaders too much leeway and thus involved 
everybody in trouble over the proposed gift. 
And Jocelyn told her how I had thought 
of the bell; and I told her how Jocelyn had 
suggested our working together as we had 
done on Red-Letter Saturday; and she made 
Jocelyn repeat her dedication speech, and 
was tremendously impressed. 

“ I never, never heard such a wonderful 
story,” she declared when we had finally 
come to an end. “ And just think, it’s true. 
And, more than that, it’s helped work out 
my fortune, too! ” 


IN HOPE’S MEMORY-BOOK 297 

44 Your fortune!” said we in astonish¬ 
ment. “ Why, how? ” 

44 Why, you know it says,” explained 
Hope, “ 4 Express the meaning of your 
name in your life/ Now 4 Hope ’ isn’t 
really my first name, it’s my middle name, 
and a surname into the bargain, for my 
full name is Mary Hope Seaborne. I was 
named after my mother, whose maiden name 
was Mary Hope, you see. But both my 
parents died before I was two years old, and 
my dear aunt and uncle brought me up and 
always called me their 4 Hope.’ And I’ve 
always wanted to live up to my name for 
them and everybody I knew, as well as for 
myself-” 

44 And you have!” I cried, for she hesi¬ 
tated here, and I saw she was feeling for 
the best way to express herself. 44 You have 
been our Hope, too, here in Daskam! For 
you got us our pictures, and your book made 
our fortunes! She did it, didn’t she, Joce- 
iyn? ” 

44 What perfect nonsense, Viola dear!” 



298 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


cried Hope laughing. “ You did every¬ 
thing yourselves. And how did I know 
what you were doing, anyway? But it’s 
lovely of you to say so, and certainly my 
memories of Daskam will keep me trying to 
fulfill my fortune back at home now, too.” 

“What!” cried Jocelyn, aghast. “You 
can’t be going away again, now we’ve just 
found you? ” 

Hope nodded, a little soberly. “ We’re 
going to-morrow,” she answered. “ I’ve 
been so happy here all afternoon I forgot to 
mention it. But all my uncle’s work here 
is completed, and so we’re going back to 
Hollins.” 

We were both so overwhelmed with this 
sad news that neither of us could say a 
word. I think Hope was touched. She 
smiled at us both affectionately, and said 
gently: 

“You aren’t any sorrier I’m going than 
I am to go, girls. And I’ll never forget you 
and Daskam as long as I live! ” 

Jocelyn still couldn’t say a word, and I 


IN HOPE’S MEMORY-BOOK 299 


felt she was going to burst into tears in a 
minute. I thought Hope was going to cry 
too, and I knew I was, so, rallying all my 
powers desperately, I managed to speak. 

“ Well, anyway, this mustn’t be the last 
time we see you,” said I. “ Of course if 
you’re going to Hollins you’ll leave on that 
late afternoon train to-morrow? Jocelyn, 
we must go down to the station after school 
and see Hope off.” 

So this proposal was seized on as a happy 
thought, and Hope agreed to be on the look¬ 
out for us, and then she had to take her 
leave. So, after all, Jocelyn and I didn’t 
cry—at least, not until after the front door 
had shut. 


CHAPTER XXI 


HOPE SHALL ABIDE 

Well, while that evening wasn’t very 
cheerful, the next morning was, for not only 
were we all in the new building for good, 
but we had a morning assembly in the bright 
big auditorium with its charming leaded 
windows and pretty carved woodwork. 
Moreover, it was the regular morning of the 
week for a popular program at Daskam, 
namely, the discussion of current events. 
So when Mr. Lane stood up on the plat¬ 
form with a newspaper clipping in his hand, 
as he frequently does on such occasions, we 
gave him our interested attention as he an¬ 
nounced : 

“ I am going, with your permission, to 
discuss current local events to-day.” 

This sounded unusually interesting. 

“ In the first place,” he continued, “ it 
seems to me that the issue of the Greenland- 

300 


HOPE SHALL ABIDE 301 

White which appeared yesterday is in itself 
an event.” 

And Jocelyn and I had been so busy we 
hadn’t got our copies yet! Indeed, I had 
forgotten all about the special edition. But, 
fortunately, Wilbur was in the third row 
from the back, and both of us could turn 
around in company with all the other front 
rows to see how he took this magnificent 
compliment, while the two back rows poked 
him so he would turn around for them to see. 
He turned a strange hue, something like a 
purple beet, and Mr. Lane tactfully dis¬ 
tracted our attention at once. 

“ I refer not only to the attractiveness of 
the edition,” he observed, putting on his 
glasses,—“ and I am glad, in this connec¬ 
tion, to note improvement in the literary 
quality of the articles,—but also to a brief 
editorial which may well form the theme of 
our coming discussion. To refresh your 
memories, I will read it aloud.” 

So he did, and as I have preserved a 
copy, you may see it as it stood. 


302 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


AFTER NEW YEAR'S , WHAT? 

There has been a great deal of bright talk go¬ 
ing around this joyous holiday-tide about how 
lovely we all are since we got the present for the 
new building and passed our mid-terms, but some 
of us, while feeling as much exhilarated as any one 
else, feel like asking the question which forms the 
title for this editorial, namely, After New Year’s, 
What? 

We are reminded of the words of the immortal 
Patrick Henry: 

“ I have but one lamp by which my feet 
are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. 

I know no way of judging of the future but 
by the past.” 

Ought we not to remember that our great suc¬ 
cess came when we had a definite program of some¬ 
thing to do, and did it? Ought we not also to 
remember that when we didn’t have anything to do 
we courted and won disaster? 

Why can’t the school definitely plan a lot of 
fine things to do after New Year’s, and do them? 
Let’s go to it. Don’t let’s be discouraged if we 
can’t do everything we did in previous years. 
Let’s think of the best things to do NOW, and 
do them WELL, so that we can answer the ques¬ 
tion thus: 

AFTER NEW YEAR'S, NEW HISTORY! 


HOPE SHALL ABIDE 303 

Mr. Lane now took off his glasses and 
gazed at us solemnly. 

“ I should like an expression of opinion 
on the ideas expressed in this article,” he 
requested. 

And many expressions were forthcoming, 
all extremely eulogistic. 

“Contrary-minded!” suggested Mr. 
Lane finally, without any results whatever. 
“ Dear me, how lovely and exhilarating all 
this unanimity is! Then why don’t you 
follow the advice of the closing paragraph 
and make concrete suggestions about what 
you’d like to do this year? I’m waiting! ” 

And we hadn’t known it at all! However, 
when we saw he was in earnest, we made 
up for lost time. Our spirits began to soar 
as the first—suggestress, can I say?— 
bounded up in the person of Abigail Sims, 
who clamored for a grand debate to be held 
during February on a patriotic historical 
subject, an idea to which Mr. Lane gave 
instant approval. Then three less earnest 
girls got up and asked for a dance, and Mr. 



304 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


Lane promised each class one before the end 
of the year. Some one else asked to have 
the interclass hockey-tournament schedule 
made out, and Mr. Lane told John Parker 
to see that that was done at once by the 
right G. O. committee. And then finally 
he said: 

“ It seems to me all these proposals you 
have made are very practical and do you 
credit. I take it they are what you really 
want to do? ” 

Wasn’t that a funny question! Of course 
we all nodded. 

“ What you want most of all? ” demanded 
Mr. Lane severely. 

W e—half -nodded! 

He looked at us hard. Then a twinkle 
came into his eye. And then he —laughed 
at us! We all caught our breath! 

“ I have to contradict you,” he said. 
“You haven’t mentioned what you want 
most of all. And if you thus give evidence 
of having learned prudence and obedience, 
I don’t see why you shouldn’t have it. A 



HOPE SHALL ABIDE 


305 


few weeks ago, boys and girls, you started 
to make the real history of this school year, 
history that should be preserved. I hope 
and believe that you are going to continue 
making it. And I think that with hard 
work there is yet time to provide for its 
proper recording in this year’s issue of 
Daskam Days and Doings! " 

Oh, the wild shriek of delight and in¬ 
credulity that hit the ceiling of the audi¬ 
torium! When your dearest hope is dead 
and gone and buried, to have it come back 
to you brighter than ever is a most tre¬ 
mendous experience. For a minute pan¬ 
demonium reigned, then we cheered Mr. 
Lane until he actually got embarrassed, and 
when the warning-bell rang for the first 
class we sang the recessional all the way to 
the classrooms. 

By recess we had settled down just 
enough to begin to wonder whom John 
Parker would appoint on the publication 
board. Personally, the wonderful an¬ 
nouncement and the vistas of coming delight 


306 THE CHIMES OF DASIvAM HIGH 

it opened cheered me up greatly, and I think 
it did Jocelyn, too, yet in the back of our 
minds there still lingered all day the fact 
that that afternoon we should have to part 
with Hope. 

But we put as brave a face on it as we 
could when we left school about a quarter 
past three to go to the station. The train 
bound for Hollins arrived at Daskam at 
twenty minutes of four. We had gone just 
a little way down the street when we heard 
behind us a peculiar whistle that was very 
familiar, low and piercing, with a funny 
ripple in the middle, which belonged to John 
Parker, as whistling is one of our excellent 
and good-natured G. O. president’s few ac¬ 
complishments. We turned. He was run¬ 
ning after us, bristling with compasses and 
rulers, on his way to be coached for his 
special jinx, geometry, no doubt. 

“ Excuse me for whistling after you,” he 
panted, “ but I must see Jocelyn at 
once-” 

“ Hoo-oo-ray-ay! ” I suddenly shouted, 



HOPE SHALL ABIDE 


30T 


just like that in the midst of that peaceful 
stately street of homes, and I clutched 
Jocelyn in a wild embrace. She was horri¬ 
fied and tried to push me away, but John 
smiled kindly. 

“ I guess girls have premonitions,” he said 
politely. 

“ I know I have,” I announced, and 
grinned at Jocelyn. 

She now blushed fiery scarlet. “ Keep 
still, Viola; I’m ashamed of you!” she de¬ 
clared. 

“ Why? ” asked John. “ She’s right. 
Will you be on the year-book staff, Jocelyn? 
I hope so. Everybody wants you.” 

Well, she accepted finally, though at first 
she was stricken so dumb with delight and 
pride over the honor that she could hardly 
answer. And then John strolled on down 
the street with us and told us who else was 
to be on the staff, and how the meetings 
were to begin that very week to make up 
for lost time, and described some brilliant 
suggestions that had been offered already in 


308 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 

an effort to make this year’s Days and Do¬ 
ings surpass any previous one, until we 
suddenly realized that if we didn’t hurry 
we’d miss the train. We broke off, and set 
out for the station on a run. 

It was a long way off at the foot of the 
hill, an old building of dark-brown bricks. 
As we raced down, we glimpsed a bright- 
yellow speck on the rear platform, and, as 
we came nearer, we could see it was Hope 
in her yellow cape. She seemed to be look¬ 
ing anxiously in our direction, and finally 
dancing up and down and waving her arms 
at us; and then, just as we came panting 
down the last stretch, the whistle sounded 
far away across Daskam Basin, and Hope’s 
voice reached us. 

“ Why didn’t you come? why didn’t you 
come? ” she cried in desperate impatience. 
“ I’ve been waiting and waiting, with such 
news! Oh, girls, such news! Tm coming 
back !” 

“ When, when? ” we gasped, hardly be¬ 
lieving our ears. 


HOPE SHALL ABIDE 309 

“ In June, for the summer course at the 
Malden School. They’ve given me a 
scholarship. I’ll be here three months. 
They arranged it with Uncle Steve last 
night. Oh, I’m so happy! ” 

“ The only happier people in the world 
are us! ” cried Jocelyn rapturously. “ We’ll 
have vacation then and can see you every 
day. How absolutely wonderfully every¬ 
thing has come out! Viola, why don’t you 
say something? ” 

“ I’m too dazed,” I said. “ Hope’s com¬ 
ing back, she’s coming back! She’s going 
to stay, she’s going to stay! Is it really 

true? ” 

“ It’s really, really true,” laughed Hope. 
“ O dear! there’s the whistle again—here 
comes the train! Good-by, you dear girls. 

No, no! Au revoir! ” 

We waved her off until her yellow cape 
on the observation platform had again be¬ 
come a speck in the distance and then dis¬ 
appeared. Then, turning, we started up the 
hill toward home again, but neither of us 


310 THE CHIMES OF DASKAM HIGH 


said a single word until we had reached my 
gate. You don’t need to talk when you’re 
perfectly happy. Finally Jocelyn broke 
the silence. 

“ Viola, there’s only one thing that hasn’t 
come right.” 

“ I don’t know what it is,” said I. 

“ You’re not on the year-book, and it 
grieves me terribly.” 

“Now that is most sweet of you, Jocelyn, 
dear,” I said, “ but truly and honestly I do 
not mourn one bit. I realize perfectly that 
my talents are not of the high order de¬ 
manded by year-books, though I assure you 
that will not prevent my using them to their 
fullest extent, even if in a humbler manner.” 

“ Stop talking rubbish, Vi, and tell me 
what you’re going to do! ” 

“ I am going to do what you are forever 
insisting that I shall do, Jocelyn Gay. I 
am going to perform a public service.” 

“No, really!” cried Jocelyn unabashed. 
“ And what is that to be? ” 

“ I’m going to write a history.” 


HOPE SHALL ABIDE 


311 


“ Of what? ” 

From far, far away, through the still, 
clear winter air, a golden note answered her 
—then another—another—another! 

“ Of our chimes of Daskam High,” I said. 

And so, as you see, I have written my 
history! 


THE END 


























° W . ; 

*° 'V ”• 

' * ^ 



_ A, v 0^0* 

O A v c"^ ■*_ 

° AT / ^ 

& : 



% ‘*^"* v ^ V'*^' / V*•■'■ 
■•♦*«♦ .vs®*'. \ / /J&A %A 

kP G * ^a. 



vv 



,^'V , 

,* J? %. °. .. 

s', <A O, '«• ‘ * A 

o^ ..-•• v, a a:-,^ 

> <x?w7?2*. A <, <f$A aVu.* ■v 





o \0 v*. 

v ~ ^ * tA^/yiy^ * n o **■ 

*o° ^ °^> * <, "° 

9 V ^v.o, v <v> a 

. -V A V ,’aW- ^ ^ ^ ^ 

U 1 „ JX}A>)(\///)° >7 . y-\ O < 

G * S<S^r///yi * ^A 



• ^ A 

*■ vP G 


* ,v> 'V , 

,* > A- °- 

* (-J \r> 


» V 


»V-* 

- * A V ^ 

A A <A *'TA* <G* A> '°“ 

Ay o o N « -* ^ ‘ o^ t • *• 1 * * ^ 

^0^ 'gSmS?* °> 

h : 






> ^A *<* ^ * 

* * 1 ■* *' \^ * ° N ° ° ^°° ^ * * ' 1 
> V A* * % A A? *'*£* * 

- V G^ 



* aV A*. -* 

4 A V O 

'O' ^ 



\y- A o 

o V 


o 0 w ° >» <$*, CV * L ' 

.I'D” • r^fv *• *r (, .t 

N ' 'KSStt*.* -Kp « 0 <♦ 

V* o' 




O M O 


o A vv 

/ o *y 

% *»«'»’ *° A *••’• A .. * 

'• A ^ 4 V 4 ; ^ ^ * 

: ^ a A'V 

» ■* 0 #*+ o 

• * * A <A *. .« s <G V o '® • a A 

c 0 “ 0 <9 ,cr - .*- , _*i» ^O. A*v c 0 " * ♦ 





j> -y 


■^o 5 


• A °y 














A o 

o V 


• o 

* <■? c>. o 

^ kJ ,„_ -v <L V &■ * 

<* ^ 4 ^.* t <o^ *••* 

^ ^ r 0 ^ t* 1 '- -4 ^°- 

< *V « 'JKWZr~\ ^ 

. «**CT * 

* < C* 

i > ^ » 


A v -i 

o > 


* O M O 


«2* 


© M 0 


h> v «.\<L!(W> ^ av 

• %A *“ ^ * 


V * o 


‘A, 


. o " ° „ <£ 


4 O. 


'/ <J* %. •„ 

"vT> "o'. * * A, <V *' . . i 

1 ' * >» O A - c 0 " ° * 

, * 

. A 
*• o > 

o_ * J5 


r *6 


D U O 


***'-, o 


<S> •'' A 

- •». <? t .‘“ 

• ^ A *isSs^ %A *' 


v V-* 

4 $ *> 


9 

' «? <#*- 


t » • 


A ^ *'VV«* A v ^ 

A ‘°^% ^ ,cr t*^ 4 . ° v 


o • , 


•^ 0 < 


*. 0v V, 


lOi 


,' ^ °** 

'<> *•'<’•’ -A **?$. * • “ * ° f° 

<> ^ * * • r o ,<y a* • 

/* V , s *iXVsv * ^4> *$l v ». 

o ^ .,<{■ ♦VS®*'. >„ ^ . 


AA 


' a v -^ 
r .‘ V ^S> 



<* *' 7 ". *' ,o' 



c u / 


« °JL° % ^ 

u* A . 

" ^O 4 . 

» *3* ° ^ * 

•..-•■ «*♦*“ ^'••-•* f°° 

. \ v c • « . „ V • O . 

V 4 ► 

^ ^ ,4 / 


“ A <> w -« 

4 ^nSXW^ ^ 


OCujij BROS. 

•< LIBRARY BINDING 



^ .v 


vP 


■/ ^ ^ 7 




*. "v-^ ; 

; a > % ° 0 

> ,-a v <#v * 

' . * « ■ <0 V 


7 r o« * ** A 

^ r° .‘1^’ °o 

] ST. AUGUSTINE *S ^ * 

I^fla. ov 


aO 



«A «> 







































































